#quokkawritings🌻

[noisyquokka]

Try Again

PAIRING - Hyunjin x GN!Reader

SYNOPSIS - After a short-lived relationship ends, Hyunjin struggles with the idea of “just friends”. Three years later, it seems you haven’t lost interest either.

WORDCOUNT - 2.9k

WARNINGS - lovers to friends to …., mutual pining, jealous!Hyunjin, a lil playful banter/angst that turns kinda steamy, kinda left open-ended... part 2 perhaps? 🤨

A/N - Literal WEEKS late, but uhhh… that’s never stopped me before! 🤭 My little addition for Hyune Day! Enjoy, Darlings! 💛

(Based loosely on Try Again - PRETTYMUCH cause I've been listening to it on repeat and it feels like a Hyunjin song to me, personally. I also wrote this to satisfy my insatiable love for watching him practice, cause let's be honest... choreographer!Hyunjin just hits different iykyk)

“Would you at least take some videos if you’re gonna bury your head in your phone?”

Your eyes sweep up to the shadow of the man who pauses his movement in the middle of the studio. Hyunjin straightens up, his fingers reaching for the brim of his hat. He pulls it off and runs his fingers through his dampened tresses, already sweaty from the past hour of practice.

“Well, excuse me, Hwang,” you mutter, resting your hand on your thigh. “I didn’t know I was summoned here to be your videographer.”

“You’re supposed to be critiquing my choreo so far.”

He’s been working on this choreo for his new solo, and while he didn’t expect you to drop in, he knows Minho has some part in you ending up here. Why? Because he was stupid enough to spill his feelings to him in full confidence that Minho would keep his mouth shut. One could say he kept his word, but still, he plays with fire in his process.

“Ah, right…” God, is it fun to ponder your next remark. You smirk as you watch him reach for the open water bottle near him. “Not enough sneaker squeaks.”

His hand pauses mid-drink, bourbon eyes cutting to your proud little grin. Your eyes are already back on the phone in your grip, tapping away like you’re texting someone. For a moment, Hyunjin is itching to know who it could be. But then he reminds himself that you’re not together anymore. He tilts his head slightly, tries not to let it bother him.

“You’re so unserious, my god,” Hyunjin mutters, and swipes at his forehead with a huff.

Your grin turns into a playful lip bite, and you can’t help but tease him a little.

“I’m being completely serious.” Your eyes find him again, and he exhales heavily. “The sneaker squeaks are an essential part of the performance. How will anyone memorize your routine if they can’t count the squeaks?”

“Okay.” He scoffs, pushing his hair back and putting his hat back on, swiftly turning back to his Bluetooth. You mock him with your typical Hwang Hyunjin voice, not noticing the way he shakes his head and smirks to himself.

Hyunjin taps the play button on his phone, taking a deep breath as he readies himself for another run-through.

It’s been hours since he started working on this specific number, and while the comeback wasn’t for a couple of months, he thought getting ahead of schedule would be nice. However, your being around brought on a difficulty to slip into the choreographer head space. Ever since his conversation with Minho, and Minho's comment about how you quote-unquote very well feel the same, I mean, have you seen the way they look at you?!, he’s been the embodiment of a goldfish in a bowl. He wishes things would’ve started off better because apparently, this lovers-to-friends plot line was only digging his early grave. Hyunjin’s fairly certain that after you two broke up, you only agreed to stay friends because you made good connections with the rest of the boys.

The rational side of him knows that’s not the truth.

Fucking less than five months and the metaphorical flames fizzle like a defective sparkler.

The only problem is that those feelings never fizzled for him. Even now, his heart stutters in his chest when you lock eyes with him. When you give him one of your little grins and cock your head as if to say you’ve won in the various dumb debates that you love to drag each other into.

Like right now.

“Seungmin agrees with me,” you say, standing up and shoving your phone at him right as he begins the dance. Hyunjin’s brows raise, blinking and tilting his head in a non-verbal question to get you to move.

“Seungmin agrees with you because it’s a dumb argument… and it’s you versus me.” he mutters the last part, watching you roll your eyes and backtracking to your spot.

“If you’re so confident in this, why am I still here?”

“You could leave,” Hyunjin says, his exertion making his comment sound harsher than he meant it to be. He locks eyes with yours in the mirror, his dark tresses falling in his line of sight. The smirk that threatens to quirk his lips sneaks in when you seemingly freeze on the spot, your eyes wider than usual. “I know you’ve got work in the morning.”

You’re mulling it over in your head now — a glimmer in your eye that Hyunjin pinpoints as he attempts to keep track of where he is in the choreography. He watches your eyes sweep to the phone, most likely checking the time. It’s roughly 1:00 am. You lock eyes again, the answer clear before you speak.

“Well, now I’m not leaving since you want me to.”

He gives a sardonic laugh, rolls his eyes as his foot slips and he misses a beat. Distractions…

“I didn’t say that,” he replies lowly, snatching the towel off the top of the stereo.

“You’re mumbling…”

“I said I didn’t say that,” Hyunjin speaks up, his hand bringing the fabric to his face to pat the sweat from his skin. You watch the drops of sweat as they drip off the ends of his hair when he pulls his hat off, and you feel the need to clear your throat. And then the towel is thrown haphazardly over his shoulder. All it has you doing is a double-take on the black tee shirt he’s wearing. The way it hugs his shoulders and chest should be outlawed, you think.

But then he reaches for the open bottle of water again, and you purse your lips. It’s another short swig, a singular drop of water escaping from the corner of his mouth. It travels down his chin, slowly slipping down the length of his neck, your eyes trained on the path it follows. It stops just before the collar of his black tee and you question why it’s suddenly hotter in the studio.

You swallow, forcing your gaze away and back to your phone before Hyunjin can witness any more of your blatant ogling. As you return your gaze to your phone, you feel the heat rising to your cheeks. You’re not embarrassed, not really, but the idea of getting caught sends your brain into overdrive.

“Still waiting on some critique I can work with~” he sing-songs, placing the bottle and towel back beside his phone.

“Maybe I don’t have anything to say,” you reply, and he chuckles.

“You?! With nothing to say? That’s a first.” He walks over, leaning against the wall and folding his arms over his chest.

With the wave of feelings you’re dealing with, Hyunjin’s comment has you bristling. You glare up at him as he arches a brow at you as if challenging you to say something. That stupid smirk quirks his lips. Butterflies swarm in your gut.

“Fine, then.” You lean forward, propping your forearm on your knee as the two of you stare each other down. “You’ve been favoring your right leg through the entire first verse of the song, your hip rolls aren’t deep enough during the chorus, you seem undecided on whether the overall choreo should be slower or faster—” You list off each critique on your fingers, and while Hyunjin wanted your genuine criticism to work toward a better overall performance, he’s clocked out to what you’re saying. His eyes sweep over your face as you continue listing the things he could improve, and he grins at the way your eyes seem to glow in the studio lighting. A fire. Passion for the things he’s passionate about.

“—And another… thing…” Your voice drops to a surprised whisper almost instantly when you feel Hyunjin’s fingers curl under your chin, feather-light against your skin. You blink, realizing just how close he’s gotten, having bent down so his elbows rest on his knees. His head cocks slightly, tongue darting out to lick the corner of his lips. Brown eyes flicker down to yours a moment later.

“Another thing?” Hyunjin repeats, his tone a low murmur. His breaths mingle with yours, your heart beating erratically in such close proximity. His index finger runs the span of your jaw as he stares, a tangible connection that still feels natural and electric to him. A reminder of the silent tension that has always lingered.

The familiar scent of his cologne clouds your senses. It brings you back to the nights he used to spend at your apartment, with the two of you watching K-dramas until 3:00 am. Your bodies a mess of limbs in your bed, his distracting kisses up your neck until you’d try to playfully shove him away. He’d reach for your jaw to pull you in for soft kisses that would evolve into slow and lazy make-outs in his arms. Your eyes dart down at the reminder, and you mentally curse yourself.

“I, Uh.” you stammer out a few words before falling silent, your eyes fixated on his. The moment hangs in the air, the tension between you thick and palpable.

Something, something, boundaries… Something, something, self-control…

Hyunjin can’t help the sly grin, feeling the skin under his touch move when you swallow. All logic has left you in favor of longing for those familiar caresses you had years ago. It sure hasn’t changed, every subtle brush of his fingers ushers forth shivers down your spine. You are teetering on the edge of a cliff, the question being do you jump? You want to. Hell, with the way Hyunjin’s gaze keeps darting down, you can’t help but wonder if he’s feeling the same way.

You attempt to regain control of yourself, but it’s futile — your focus is lost, distracted by the proximity of his lips. Fuck, is he leaning in…

“Your expressions.” You finally manage, the only lingering critique swirling around in your head. “They, uh, could be sharper…” You say, watching Hyunjin sharpen his gaze like a conniving fox. And like a trickster, his fingers drag from your jaw to your neck, dark eyes following its path until the steady thrum of your pulse halts his journey. Your eyes drink him in, lips parted as Hyunjin’s brow twitches in a knowing gesture.

We can’t do this, not after all this time.

The silence crackles with anticipation. You’re fairly certain that Hyunjin knows some part of this is dangerous cause he hesitates for a moment. But then he’s leaning in, his thumb tracing circles against your neck. You mirror his movements, so close that this sliver of distance feels like a challenge. Unspoken desire hums between you two, a heat that has always lingered, just waiting for the right moment to reignite.

Just friends…

The soft brush of Hyunjin’s lips against yours slams the factory reset on your thoughts, mental gymnastics be damned. The tension snaps like a rubber band. You finally give in, capturing his mouth in a meaningful liplock. It feels like no time has passed - he still kisses you with the same careful tenderness that he always has. That familiar heat runs through your body as you sink into him, chasing his lips when he pulls away for a split second only to recapture yours with a fervor.

Your phone is forgotten in your lap, hands sliding up his chest in a new wave of confidence. You pull him closer and Hyunjin groans softly, his free hand coming up to brace his weight against the wall behind you. Your mouths move together in a seamless rhythm, your kisses growing hungrier and more desperate. The brim of his hat grazes your forehead and you slip one of your hands higher into his hair, hooking your finger around the strap. It falls to the floor with a dull thud, allowing your fingers to rake freely through his dark tresses. A subtle pull that has him smirking against your mouth.

Hyunjin pulls back slightly, his fingers sliding from your neck to your jaw. Your lips part in a sigh as you both sit there on the floor of the dance studio, panting against each other’s mouths. Eyes closed, you feel his forehead rest against yours, your noses brushing. You bite your lip, savoring the warmth of his skin on yours.

“I’ve missed this,” he tells you, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Me too.” You murmur, lashes fluttering. God, what an understatement. You’ve been close even after you ended things, with friendly shoves and your usual back-and-forth banter. But the feel of his warm hands against your skin, the comfort of his close presence, his plush lips. This is what you’ve truly been craving.

His scent lingers in your lungs, his heart beating steady beneath your palm. You feel Hyunjin’s fingers knead the skin of your jaw, tilting your head up so he can come back for another chaste kiss that soothes the ache in your chest. He pulls back, pressing his lips to your forehead as he shifts to sit beside you on the studio floor, his back to the wall. You lean back, resting your head against the wall, your eyes locked on the ceiling.

Silence… as comfortable as it’s always been with the man beside you, you despise it right now. It only has you in your head after both of your confessions. What does it mean for you two?

Your gaze wanders back to his. Only those browns are already looking back, a softness in them that has always been there when they’re looking at you. Hyunjin gives you a half grin, reaching out for your nearest hand and slipping his fingers between your own. His thumb caresses the back of your hand as you both sit there, minutes passing by.

“You’re not going to say anything, are you?” Hyunjin’s voice shatters the silence, staring up at the ceiling.

“We should be running through what not to do when you stay friends with your ex right about now,” You’re half joking, but your tone is more tense than nonchalant. Hyunjin laughs under his breath, looking at you from the corner of his eye. You don’t look at him, but you feel him squeeze your hand lightly.

“You should know how difficult it is to stay friends with an ex.”

“Oh, is it?” A small huff escapes your mouth, and you steal another glance, licking your lips.

“You don’t need me to tell you why, do you?” Hyunjin replies, his voice a low murmur. His head turns to you, his gaze fixed on your lips as you bite at them nervously. “You could have cut all contact with me. You could have moved on and we would have gone our separate ways…”

“I didn’t want to do that.” You admit. Your fingers twitch in his palm, pads running over small callouses and lines as you try to distract yourself with something. Anything. His hand wraps around yours again, squeezing firmer this time. A gesture of reassurance.

“I didn’t either.”

You swallow, picking your gaze off your entwined hands, and your heart skips a beat when you meet his eyes.

“We’re gonna have to decide what this is, aren’t we?” You say, the words sounding more serious than intended. Hyunjin does respond immediately. He just stares, his eyes awash in a mix of emotions you can’t quite decipher. He breathes in, tilting his head slightly.

“Yeah…” He says, his voice low and steady. The weight of that realization settles on his chest, but Hyunjin shakes his head and offers you a genuine grin. “Maybe after a good night’s rest.”

“And a shower.” You smirk, pulling away from him in a joking fashion. But he pulls you back into him, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. You screw your face up and he rolls his eyes.

“Didn’t hear you complaining with my lips on yours just a moment ago.” He teases, nuzzling his nose against your cheek. You huff a laugh, leaning back against him.

“Hard to complain when you’re a good kisser.” you counter, bringing a hand up to his shoulder.

“Ah, couldn’t forget that over the years?” Hyunjin mutters, a hint of playfulness in his tone. His lips connect to the junction of your jaw, slowly trailing kisses down the hollow of your neck. Your fingers dig into his shoulder blade, your lashes fluttering over your cheeks.

“I don’t think I ever could.”

Your words send a rush of satisfaction through him and he nips at the sensitive skin just behind your ear. This closeness and playful back and forth is what he’s missed. A comfort that he never wanted to let go of. Even now, as the clock nears 2:00 am.

You capture his face in your hands and pull him back up with little argument, your thumb tracing the corner of his lips.

You don’t realize he’s leaning in again until you feel his lips on yours. It’s a slow and tender kiss this time, but the passion behind it burns hot. You revel in the subtle way he pulls you in, his hand falling off your shoulder to find purchase at your lower back.

Hyunjin eases up, and you’re left breathless yet again, your heart thumping in your chest.

“You gonna be able to sleep after this?” He asks, a sly grin curling his lips.

“Old habits die hard…” You breathe, pulling him in once again.

Psst!! If you've made it this far, thank you for taking the time to read my work 💕 I appreciate you!

#stray kids #skz #hwang hyunjin #stray kids x reader #skz x you #hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin x reader #skz x reader #hwang hyunjin scenarios #skz hyunjin #hwang hyunjin imagines #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #hwang hyunjin x you #stray kids x gender neutral reader #stray kids drabbles #hwang hyunjin x gender neutral reader #skz drabbles #hwang hyunjin drabbles #gn reader #x gender neutral reader #quokkawritings🌻

[noisyquokka]

Bro you write Felix so well! I have an idea for a request if you're willing ^^

He buys the reader flowers a lot and keeps one from each bouquet so he knows when the rest are dying and he can buy them more! It doesn't have to be boyfriend!felix, I'll leave that up to you! Just something super cute and wholesome, love that!!

A Lesson in Gift-Giving

PAIRING - Felix x GN!Reader

SYNOPSIS - Sometimes gift-giving doesn't go as smooth as you plan. Felix realizes the error of his ways after months away on tour.

WORDCOUNT - 2.5k

WARNINGS - Fluff, humor, newly-established relationship, which means there's a little miscommunication, but we get through it like champs ✊🏻

A/N - I love this idea so much! Got a little inspo just from your request, which I added in, hope you don't mind 😅 Wrote it as bf!Felix just cause it's a vibe.

"This is... definitely not getting out of hand."

You mutter these words to yourself as you stare down the latest delivery of fresh cut flowers sitting on your kitchen counter. Pink and white mini-carnations stare back at you in all their ruffled-petal glory, their sweet scent wafting through your personal space. The handwritten note between your fingers is cheesy and adorable; so very Felix. You scratch the side of your head in bemusement.

Most would say such a reaction to a bouquet of flowers was rude, considering it came from your boyfriend. But as you sit here amongst the variety of florals in your home, you think you've had enough to sustain you for the rest of the year.

It all began with one trip to a local Flea Market. You had stepped inside one of the mini shops on the way out only to catch the dashing white orchids in their pot on the shelf. Felix had offered to buy them for you as a little gift, and with hearts in your eyes, you had accepted. You stare at it now - a glorious centerpiece of four months that is absolutely thriving in its own right.

Then came the fresh cut peonies.

You were over the moon when Felix had surprised you with the first bouquet two weeks later, but you never could've imagined the deluge of flowers that would follow like clockwork. And you accepted all of them with the utmost gratitude. You'd also developed an odd relationship with the delivery guy over time; saying nothing verbally, but everything with the great art of facial miming, if that was even a thing.

The only thing about such a gift is that your place was beginning to look less like a home and more like a florist's shop. Your kitchen island not only held your thriving orchid display, but those same lush peonies, now dried in hues of dusty pinks. As your collection of flowers grew, so did your creativity. The flourishing arrangement of blooms that you had gotten for your four month anniversary had been carefully pressed between paper-towel-lined book pages for roughly two weeks before you were able to proudly display them in the frame above your bed.

It's safe to say you've turned just about every blank space in your home into a floral oasis over the last few months.

What was supposed to be a simple, romantic gesture was quickly derailing. Only problem was you had to be the one to stop it. After being with Felix for six months, you'd think such a simple conversation would be... well, simple. And yet, you stand here in a state of blooming panic.

A knock at the door brings you back to your current predicament. Your fingers twitch around the cardstock, crumpling the edge as your feet move in short strides toward the entrance. You're half expecting the delivery guy again, but as you swing the door open, you're even more surprised to find your boyfriend standing there with a smile that rivals the sun and-

"More flowers...!"

They're Dahlias this time - an arrangement of small but vibrant Orange Button blooms that compliment their larger, blushing Café au Lait companions. The contrast between them in both size and color is stunning; warm candle flames licking at the edges of whimsical ivory bones.

"Special delivery!" Felix's bubbly voice sets your heart in motion, and although you're seeing flower petals behind your eyelids, you can't help but smile at the cellophane-wrapped bouquet in his hand. A tote bag hangs off his other arm, filled to the brim with you can only guess what.

"Felix!?" You shake your head but lunge at him with open arms, a mix of confusion and excitement crossing your face. "Tour doesn't end for another three days. What are you doing here?"

"Last stop was canceled so I pulled some strings and caught a red-eye." He murmurs, burying his nose into your scalp. You feel him sink into your touch, a deep release of breath that says he's happy to be back home. God, did he miss you.

You pull away, ushering him inside and taking the flowers with the utmost care.

"Dahlias aren't even in season yet, where'd you get these?!"

You miss the furrow of his brow as he slugs his shoes off at the mat, following you through the immediate hallway.

"I may have pulled some more strings..." Felix trails off, footsteps faltering once he's in the open space of the kitchen and living room. He hears your laugh, lips quirking into a lopsided grin as he takes in the familiar centerpiece on the island. When you turn around, you catch those brown eyes shift from the orchids to the peonies that sit beside them. He points at the mummified bouquet with a tilt of his head.

"Are those~" He blinks, setting the tote bag down on the cool marble. "Are those the peonies I bought you for our one month?"

You hum an affirmative, lips thinning as you disappear down the hallway in search of a vase. Every single floral in your house is like a bright red flag in the apartment; waving rampantly in your peripheral as you pass through the living room. Good god, Felix hasn't even noticed those yet. The thought has you losing focus, fingers mindlessly shuffling through the vast collection of vases in the hall closet.

The crumpled petals in their muted pinks and creams stare back at the man as he leans against the kitchen island, chin resting in the palm of his hand with narrowed eyes. Felix would've expected these to be long gone by now. The peonies that had once been so vibrant and alive are nothing more than dried stems and petals in a ceramic vase. To him, they look less-than-lively in their current state. The sound of socked feet padding back into the living room shifts his attention. He doesn't even notice the other displays behind you, too focused on your presence alone.

"I'm no florist, Love, but these look like they're past their prime." There's a hint of a smile on his lips when he finishes his quip, and you can't help but chuckle. Twitchy fingers reach for the junk drawer handle, pulling it open with a lazy arm.

"I know they're not as beautiful as when you first gave them to me," You say, grabbing the set of pruners and scissors that rest among snack clips, rubber bands and the like, "but trust me when I say that they're still pretty."

"They look dead." He deadpans, padding around the island in few strides. He watches you work intently, leaning against the countertop as you cut the wrapping away and cut back the stems. The tap runs in the sink, cooler for the delicate blooms in your hands.

"They're not-" You start, filling the chosen vase a quarter of the way and mixing the food packet in. Your cheeks feel warm from the comment and you dip your head as you work. "Well, I guess they are technically dead..."

You hear the chuff of a laugh from your boyfriend and glance over your shoulder, quickly looking forward again when you find citrine eyes already on you. The grin on Felix's face is soft and yet you feel your face heat up even more. If he's teasing me about the peonies, what's he gonna say about the others?

"I dried them, so to me, they're just... frozen in time." You say, pruning the few leaves from the lower stems.

"You dried them?" He sounds surprised. You nod, placing the flowers into their yellow porcelain vase, fiddling with the placement of each blossom more than you should.

It's now, when you're preoccupied, that Felix's eyes rove over the island to the living room and his eyes widen. The Gladiolus bouquet from almost two weeks ago sits on the coffee table as a centerpiece, still alive by some miracle. Even more surprising, the Hydrangeas from a week and a half ago sit in a glass jar on the console table behind your sofa. The water in the makeshift vase is just about gone, settled in the base of the jar touching just the tips of the clipped stems.

"Baby, how are these still alive?" He asks, walking around the island towards the displays in the living area. Your attention shifts, following his movements as he stands there baffled by the still pristine blooms on the coffee table. Felix turns his head to you, your fingers laced in front of you as you move away from the Dahlias in their yellow porcelain vase.

"Felix, I have to tell you something."

Dark brows knit at your tone, voice mumbling and awkward as you tap your index nail onto your opposite ones.

"What, Love?"

"It's just- ah-" You let out a tense exhale, your heart beat picking up in your chest. "It's a little embarrassing to say, and I don't want you to take this the wrong way, but the flowers have gotten a bit out of hand... and..."

You pause in your ramblings, glancing up to your boyfriend who is still fascinated by the week old flowers. He picks up the jar of Hydrangeas with a careful hand, eyeing the petals that have begun their wilting and drying process. Observing. Analyzing. For a moment you believe he's so focused on them that your words have gone unheard, but he shifts his gaze to yours with arched brows and narrowed browns.

"How'd you manage to keep these fresh so long? The florist's site said they'd last a little under a week if you were lucky."

You tilt your head toward the ceiling, pressing your lips together as you scratch at the nape of your neck.

"I may or may not have some background in floristry..." You trail, voice going higher as you speak. Your fingers clench over your thumb as your eyes flicker about the living space, avoiding eye contact. "It's part of why I'm telling you. I love the flowers, Felix, I really do. But, it's just becoming a bit much."

"Love," Felix sets the flowers down with a sigh, and you keep your eyes on the far wall out of shame. He's mad, disappointed... he's something! And it's not a good someth-

You startle at the feeling of warm hands cupping your cheeks and your wide eyes dart forward to meet his. He takes in your expression, noticing the nervous shifting and fidgeting. Felix offers you his full attention - a warm smile and warm eyes, those familiar crescents.

"Why are you so nerved up? There's nothing to be ashamed of, you know I support you in everything." He leans forward and in an instant you feel him press a kiss to your forehead. Your chest lightens at the gesture.

"So you're not mad?"

"Never! Though I wish you would've told me that you were knowledgeable in fresh cut flowers. I only sent you new ones after the flower I took from each bouquet wilted on me."

His confession makes you laugh, your eyes closing as you shake your head.

"I was wondering why one was missing from every delivery. I thought someone was shortchanging you!"

"No, I wanted you to have something to brighten up the place when I'm gone. I guess I didn't consider the idea of you knowing anything on flowers..." He trails, chuckling to himself. His hands leave your face, taking their familiar place wrapped around your waist as he pulls you into him. Felix's chin rests atop your head, and you bring your own arms around his torso, nails scratching lightly against his shoulder blades. You press your face into his chest.

"So, where'd you learn all your magical floristry skills from?" He asks, glancing around the place for any other old bouquets he'd gifted you.

"My grandfather." You murmur, tilting your head up to catch his eye. Your arms tighten around him. "He was always out in the garden, spent most of his lifetime caring for his flowers out there, I'm pretty sure. Everything he'd taught me was through his own trial and error."

"Well, sure seems like you've perfected some of his teachings." Felix muses, grinning down at you. A scoff leaves you and you wave away his high praises.

"It's nothing, really. I just enjoy the process." You feel your cheeks heating up again, so you press your face back into the fabric of his hoodie.

"It's nothing?" Felix's arms tighten around your waist, lifting you easily and sitting himself down on the couch so you're draped over his lap. You settle your face in the crook of his neck, feeling him huff out a content sigh as he relaxes into the cushions. "You are so humble... but you have to admit, you're a natural at this. Maybe we should open up a flower shop together, hm? I'll take the orders, you just do your thing with this beautiful mind of yours." He nuzzles his chin into the side of your head with a chuckle, fingers cascading over the skin of your hip.

"You gonna take orders on tour, too?" You tease, fighting back a grin.

"You betcha! Your talent can be shipped worldwide." He glances down to gauge your reaction, the corners of his lips curled up in a smug amusement. Though there's that genuine affection seeping through as well. The kind that makes your heart flutter. You roll your eyes, but your hostility is lost with the curl to your lips. You press a soft kiss to Felix's neck, his expression shifting as he rests his head against the back of the couch.

"You really think I could open a flower shop?"

"You could be anything you wanna be, Love." He says, shifting so that you're facing each other. He draws you closer, hands moving to the curve of your shoulders. You can feel his heart beating against your own, missing that skin-to-skin contact that he's been craving for the past few months on tour. The living room settles into contentedness for a moment; just fingers brushing skin and shallow breaths as you both keep your eyes on one another.

"I love you," Felix whispers, lips brushing against yours once, twice, until they fully connect in a sweet kiss.

"And I love you," You mumble, smiling against him. "but I'll happily take your brownies every week for the next year."

"No more flowers, then?" You scrunch your nose at his question, pressing your lips together to stop yourself from laughing at the ridiculousness of your situation.

"You are the biggest rom-com protagonist I've ever laid my eyes on."

Felix's eyes light up with a playful spark as he tilts his head to the side, a deep chuckle rumbling his chest.

"What can I say, I try." He's oh, so humble about it; eyebrows arching in a cocky manner, a lopsided grin on his lips. He presses another kiss to your lips, slow and lingering as his hands slip to your lower back. You can't help but smile against his mouth, bringing a hand up to tangle in the dark tresses of hair. He hums before pulling back, suddenly remembering something.

"Speaking of being the best boyfriend alive-"

"Your words, but sure-"

"-I brought some takeout and a few other gifts from overseas... but you said you wanted brownies soooo..." He looks off elsewhere, and you roll your eyes.

"Babe!"

Felix laughs, the sound a gentle melody to your ears. Your eyes meet again and he shoots you a loving smile, nodding toward the bag sitting on the counter.

"They're yours, Love." He murmurs, fingers tapping the side of your leg to usher you off the couch.

"C'mon. The quicker we eat, the quicker I get to cuddle you to sleep."

Psst!! If you made it this far, thank you for taking the time to read my work 💕 I appreciate you!

#stray kids #skz #lee felix #stray kids x reader #skz x you #lee felix x reader #skz felix #skz x reader #skz lee felix #lee felix imagines #skz imagines #gn reader #x gender neutral reader #quokkawritings🌻

[noisyquokka]

Lifetimes Before

PAIRING - Chan x GN!Reader

SYNOPSIS - Sometimes all your soul needs is a quiet night with your Lover, something that always feels familiar to you that you can't quite put a finger on.

WORDCOUNT - 2k

WARNINGS - Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, dancing with this man under the stars? sign me up!!

A/N - I've had this idea stuck in my head for a while now, so I thought I'd finally get it out. Giggled, kicked my feet, twirled my hair whilst writing this and now I wish I could dance with my girlfriend... Anyway Happy Chan day, everybody!!🥰🎉

The wood creaks beneath your weight as you descend the staircase, halting at the second-last step and leaning over the railing. You scan the open space in search of your Lover, ears perking at the melody floating about the first floor. Something far older than the two of you, with elements of blues, swing, big band. A man with the vocals of silk and lace, a warm embrace. Nat King Cole. It's a record you're familiar with, one you can imagine your grandparents listening to in their late 20s. It's something that fits a quiet Sunday evening, the spices from a homecooked meal wafting through the house as the family sits down to eat. Something that fits this quiet Sunday evening.

The chosen vinyl spins on the turntable, soundwaves moving you like nothing else can. You skip down the last few steps, turning towards the back patio with a furrowed brow. There's a faint glow shining through the door's glass, fighting its way through the sheer curtains hanging from them; a pathetic excuse for privacy. But you find the golden glow of a sunset too good to pass up most days, the rays bleeding through the hallway, running up the walls like untamed flames in a campfire.

Ah, that glow… one of crackling wood and all-encompassing heat.

A smile pulls at the corners of your lips, your slippers padding across the runner in the hall as you pull the door open. Chan's back is to you, tending to the fire in the freestanding pit. Daylight is fading, the tree tops along your property rimmed in the amber glow of late Summer. The northern breeze assaults the fabric on your person, greeting the bare skin beneath with a sweet kiss of chills. You step out anyway, patio bricks smooth underfoot, and clear your throat. The man's shoulders tense only for a moment, straightening up as he turns to you. That familiar look of affection adorns his face.

"So what's this, then?" You gesture to the fire, the buzzing stereo inside. It's romantic beyond measure, and even as you know the events that are about to unfold, you play coy. "You call me down here for what, exactly?"

"Leave the door open," He says, waving you over with a wag of his fingers. You oblige, unable to hold back your smile as you close in on the sight before you. The mess of curls atop his head move with him, his focus on nothing else but you as you cross the space from the entrance to the patio. The closer you get, the wider Chan's smile gets until you're greeted by those dimples, the fire light washing over the elusive divots as he turns back to the horizon awash in a blaze of vibrant hues. Orange, violet, yellowish-pink.

You stop behind him, feeling the warmth of the fire spill over the broadness of his shoulders. He chuckles when your arms slink around his waist, tightening as you rest your cheek at the space between his shoulder blades. You take a deep breath, closing your eyes. The patio door sways open further with the breeze, the sound of the stereo mingling with the crackles and pops of dry wood. It's almost like the sands in the hourglass stop out here, every single time. If only…

Chan's fingers slip under one of your hands, linking your fingers together to pull you around to his side. The song that's playing ends, and you recognize the next instantly. Those fingers squeeze around yours in a nonverbal question, and Chan follows up with a verbal one.

"May I?"

"Do you even have to ask?"

"I'm just being a gentleman." He insists, pulling you closer with a gentle hand. His other hand settles at your waist, taking the lead in this three-step on this chilly evening. And you follow with no complaints, bringing your opposite hand up to rest on his shoulder. Nat King Cole begins his silken performance from inside.

Three little words,

Oh what I'd give for that wonderful phrase,

To hear those three little words,

That's all I'd live for the rest of my days,

His grip on you is firm but comfortable, there to keep you close even as he knows you're not going anywhere. The two of you ease into that familiar swing and sway, so used to being soul partners in this backyard oasis where the only wandering eyes are the wildlife that slinks through the shadows and the stars that have yet to make their appearance tonight. Moving together as one, sharing the same space as Chan pulls you in so your back is to his chest.

And what I feel in my heart,

They tell sincerely,

No other words can tell it half so clearly,

His voice rumbles in his chest, swaying you back and forth as he softly serenades you in his arms. You're smiling, lashes fluttering at such a serene and calming voice, the lyrics carrying you on wings of sound as you step in time with the music. And oh, does that voice hold nothing but the strongest affection for the one he's singing to. It erupts butterflies within your chest.

Chan unfurls you from his embrace, your fingers interlocking again as you step backward, shifting your weight to your left foot and coming back to center. It's hard not to smile, something so natural to the both of you - a waltz between two Lovers in firelight as your bodies flow like a river - when you've been here a number of times. The instrumentals fill the air between you both, floating out of the warmly lit home and into the night. 

Three little words,

Eight little letters,

Which simply mean I love you.

Chan's voice fills your ears again as he spins you around the patio, the chill creeping under your shirt. Even so, you feel nothing but warmth radiating from the man that's swinging you around like this is the most fun he's had in all his lifetimes. He pushes you away, shifting his left foot back before strong arms are pulling you back into him. Your laughter echoes through the trees, and you let your head fall back in bliss. You bite your lip as he presses a kiss to your chin.

"Am I doin' this right?" His breath is soft on your neck, arms slipping to the small of your back while yours find their resting place at his shoulders. You're much too close to properly dance, so Chan guides you into a slow and simple sway, shifting your weight from your left foot to your right.

"You're the dancer, Christopher," You reply, tilting your head to lock eyes with the man, "shouldn't you know?" A soft smile takes over your lips as you let your eyes linger on his in the warmth of the fire.

"I was referring to my execution," He gestures to the romantic setting he'd created with a smirk. "but from the look on your face, I'm guessing I've done alright."

You chuckle, blinking as your fingers find the hair at the nape of his neck. Your gaze flits around the backyard, seemingly judging the choices he'd made. The wind kicks up now, rustling the changing leaves that sway along their branches with you two below. The flames crackle with the intrusive whispers of air, embers glowing as they travel on the wind's current like fireflies. Your focus come back to those warm amber eyes, licking your lips.

"I'd say so." You murmur, leaning in to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. Chan grins at that, lifting you with ease and twirling you around, the two of you moving in a smooth circle. You squeal at his movements, eyes wide for the slightest second as the pads of your fingers dig into his shoulders. But then you hear him giggle and you're being brought back down just enough that his lips can find yours. You hum contentedly into the kiss, lashes fluttering against your ever heating cheeks.

And what I feel in my heart,

They tell sincerely,

No other words can tell it half so clearly,

He sets you back to your feet and without missing a beat, you're back in step with little effort. Your body moves in time with Chan's and his with yours, each step blending into the next. The intuitive tells and the way you understand each other's bodies is an artform, with a level of cohesion that defies all logic. Like two halves of a whole, your souls intertwined in a way that's otherworldly. Attuned to the natural rhythm of one another, every step, every touch. It's something learned over lifetimes. It's an enchanting feeling; an experience you could live in for eternity if only you get to experience it with his soul in every single life beyond this one.

Three little words,

Eight little letters,

Which simply mean I love you,

He spins you away again, lyrics dancing on the tip of his tongue. The man's voice is like a soft, melodic lullaby, it's smooth and soothing tones washing over you. The breeze and the fire craft a tranquil and romantic atmosphere as you sway your hips with the music. The flames cast a glow across Chan's face, dancing over bare skin as he draws you back into him, foreheads bumping softly. He brings a hand up to cup your cheek, thumb brushing fervently at the warm skin. Time moves slowly in this moment, lasting an eternity as you breathe each other in. You could've sworn this song is only about two minutes long.

"Simply mean I love you."

He sings the last line softly, a wide grin taking over his face. You mirror that grin, unable to hold back as your heart beats heavy in your chest. Two pairs of eyes stare for a long moment, taking in every feature, every imperfection, everything. Nothing but a heart palpitating love in those gazes, melting into one another. There's love.

"I love you."

It's said at the same time, soft chuckles vibrating through warm chests. His breath lightly fans over your cheeks, the hand at your back coming to rest at your hip. He tilts your head up just enough, the softness of his lips meeting yours in another gentle kiss. You're still slightly swaying as the next song plays in the background, your senses tuned into him as you feel the chill on your skin, the scent of burning wood, the taste of Chan's lips on yours.

You dance until the fire begins to die, your bodies intertwined and foreheads resting against each other. Until the vinyl is finished playing, giving way to the chorus of night insects that still sing this close to the start of Autumn. The embers burn away, cooling into white ash as starlight takes over, the moon's soft luminescence illuminating the two of you. And even after all is quiet, you stay in Chan's arms, the warmth of his skin and his voice a gentle comfort.

You know you have work in the morning, but enveloped in your Lover's arms, you don't see yourself finding the willpower to rush back inside to go to bed. Not when everything feels as it should. Heartbeats in sync, two souls sharing such a profound connection that poets of old could only weave into the fabric of humanity's web with their weathered scribes.

You see their gazes now, in the twinkling of the stars above, beautiful and serene. A creation all their own. The scene brings a smile to their shimmering faces, that you know every inch of the man beside you. Every inch of his body, every movement, every sound. There is nothing that Chan does that you don't already know. Your love runs deeper than flesh and bone, deeper than the vastness of galaxies. It's a love that runs to the very essence of your two souls. A love that has lasted lifetimes before this one and will last for lifetimes after.

The hours pass, but you don't rush back inside to sleep. There is no hurry, no need. 

You are where you're supposed to be, in the arms of the man you love.

Psst!! If you made it this far, thank you for taking the time to read my work 💕 I appreciate you!

#stray kids #bang chan #stray kids x reader #skz x you #bang chan x reader #skz #bang chan fluff #chan x reader #skz soft hours #skz chan #bang chan imagines #stray kids fluff #gn!reader #x gender neutral reader #quokkawritings🌻

[noisyquokka]

Losing Game

PAIRING - Felix x GN!Reader

SYNOPSIS - If your teasing is infuriating, Felix's is something akin to Wonderland - trapping your mind in a haze of desire, spiraling you into madness with just a few caresses and kisses. He won't allow you to push too far without pushing back with everything he has, and everything just means pulling your strings until you've admitted defeat. You're playing a losing game with a man who knows such things a little too well.

WORDCOUNT - 4.2k

WARNINGS - Fluff, Suggestive (Borderline NSFW so 18+), Established Relationship, LOTS of Teasing, Felix is the biggest tease this side of the galaxy, but so are we

A/N - Y'all don't look at me, this was meant to be a tooth-rotting fluff piece but Boyfriend!Felix is too much fun to write I swear I blacked out typing the majority of this, idk where I went wrong-💀 Anyway... Happy Felix day!!🎉

Felix is adamant that the scent of one of his favoured candles is what coaxed him out of his slumber, though the 9:00 AM sunlight may be the real culprit. It bleeds through the sheer curtains of the shared bedroom, softened by the cascading polyester. Brown eyes glare back in a mess of displeasure, thin lips curving into a frown at the audacity of twilight breaking into day only hours prior. He stretches against the sheets, limbs popping in protest of their owner's insistence. Felix glares a moment longer, the muscles in his face twitching as the luminary beams back. A great sigh is released and eyelids flutter closed, rolling onto his opposite side to keep the blasted sun at bay.

Long legs kick outward, connecting with a mountain of soft plush at the foot of the bed. Dark brows furrow. That's not meant to be there...

Before Felix can tilt his head downward, the canopy of flat sheets above catches sleep-riddled eyes. He rolls onto his back, gazing at the woven sheets with a furrowed brow. They fall off to one side of the bed frame, a makeshift wall made up of carefully crafted horizontal and vertical threads, the entrance to the bedroom just a shadow beyond. The entirety of the mattress is encased by blankets, dimly lit by the warm glow of fairy lights hanging from it's ceiling. Stiff arms push against the mattress, the few rays of sunlight that's allowed in warming the bare skin of his wrist.

A blanket fort; erected over the course of the early morning by determined hands. A sanctuary.

Brown optics shift to the foot of the bed where that plush mountain sits beneath bare feet. The collection of pillows aren't just from the bed, Felix notes, but from every other room in the apartment. They most definitely weren't there when he crawled into bed with you late last night, he knows that much. The man can't help the sly grin that pulls his lips, shaking his head as he presses an open palm against one eye. An attempt to rub the sleep away.

The bedroom door opens with a creak, quiet footsteps padding over hard-wood floors. There's the sound of dishes clanking and utensils screeching against plates, a mumbled curse that leaves hushed lips. Felix has to hold in his chuckle, following the human-shaped shadow behind the sheets with groggy eyes. He smirks once you emerge on his side of the bed.

"Morning, Sleepy Head."

You're balancing two plates on one forearm, two bottles of water in your other hand. You managed without much issue, handing Felix a bottle and setting the other on the nightstand along with the plates. He eyes the grub on the plate; a simple breakfast for two. He takes a swig from the bottle, his attention naturally falling back to you. Especially when you hop onto his side of the bed, mischievous grin on your lips.

You shift your weight from your bum to your knees, crawling up the bed until your hands splay on either side of your boyfriend's hips, fingers pressing into the mattress. Felix's eyes narrow at your actions, a wry grin settling on his face as the proximity between you two dwindles.

"Happy Birthday." You murmur, so low as the purring of a feline near their person. It earns you a wider grin, Felix's gaze traveling downward as he takes you in. He hums.

"Thank you, Babe." Sleep holds his vocal chords in it's clutch, that deep rasp like music to your ears. Those eyes linger on your lips, waiting for you to lean in just a bit further.

"Is that all?" He asks, his voice taking on that teasing tone. A smirk crosses your face in response, leaning in until your nose is nuzzling his.

"Maybe... maybe not..."

You're so close that your lips ghost over his with every word. This is familiar; the teasing. The man tilts his head back against the headboard, impatient to your featherlight caresses and your body heat seeping into him. The chuckle you release only aids that.

You know what he's waiting for. He's waiting for you to initiate things.

A slight tilt of your head brings you closer to the bareness of his neck and you press your face into him, breathing him in. It's less to tease him and more to satisfy your own need to be close, but when he tilts his head toward your ear, you can't help but leave a kiss behind. Felix bites his lip, lashes fluttering.

"I wonder... what else you have in mind." He whispers. You only continue to press kisses along his throat - soft and tender, grinning against tanned skin at the subtle bob of his Adam's Apple - lingering there for a moment longer. Brown eyes close as you pepper more up the side of his neck, his chest rising and falling with the uptick of his pulse. You pause with one last kiss behind his left ear, nuzzling the shell of it with your nose.

"Your breakfast is getting cold."

God, you're infuriating...

Brown eyes lock on yours when you pull away and Felix huffs a laughter of disbelief, watching as you lean over and reach for the plates on the nightstand. You hand him one of the two, fingers brushing over one another at the exchange.

"You do know it's my birthday, right?" He questions, arching a brow. Your eyes dance with unbridled mischief as you bring the utensil to your mouth.

"Mhm, and you, my Pretty Boy, are staying under the shelter of this blanket fort with me all day."

"Mm, I didn't agree to that."

"You tossed and turned through the entire process of it's construction, not to mention I almost stepped on you." You point the prongs of your fork at him in warning. "You're staying in here even if I have to tie you down."

"Oh? Is that what you had in mind?"

You hand connects with a sturdy chest, mumbling a shut it as you swallow your food. Felix just chuckles, finally digging into his own helping. A moment passes of quiet solitude, forks scratching and tapping against stoneware. His gaze flits to you every few minutes as he takes in the work you'd done.

"This is pretty impressive, I've gotta admit." He says, poking at what little remains on his plate. "What made you land on 'blanket fort date' as my birthday gift?"

You shrug, setting your own empty dish to the side.

"I don't know. Just thought you needed this before tour starts. I know that as much as you love what you do, it can be stressful." You shift your weight on the bed, settling in beside your Lover. "That, and I wanted you to myself before our relationship is diminished to text bubbles and video calls for eight months."

You don't even care that you're both grown-ass adults getting cozy under a blanket fort like you're still in grade-school. To other people, maybe this is considered childish. To Felix? He didn't care as long as you were here with him. The two of you were children at heart anyways, and with a hectic schedule coming up, he was more than content to just lay here and do everything and nothing with you.

Brown eyes meet yours instinctually, a tilt of the head and thin lips.

"I know the distance sucks. Eight months will be here and gone before we can blink, though." Felix murmurs. He places both plates on the bedside table just as you rest your head against his shoulder, your eyes drifting shut with a long sigh.

"I know, it's just... it's difficult. I just want you to have a memory to think of me while you're away."

You mumble into his skin, nuzzling your face into his arm. Felix reaches for your hand, slotting your fingers with his before bringing them up to press a lingering kiss to your knuckles. He feels you smile against his skin, pulling away to glance up at him.

"Plus, you're adorable when you're flustered."

"Flustered? Me? When?"

I have cold, hard evidence, Mister! Don't even try to deny it."

A scoff leaves your boyfriend's lips, eyebrows arching incredulously.

"And where is this cold, hard evidence?"

"Right here," You tap an index finger to your temple, a smirk taking over your face. "video surveillance of Lee Felix anticipating a Birthday kiss from his Lover, loses his mind when teased. Not Clickbait!"

"Not clickb- get over here, you!"

You squeal when Felix reaches for you, your eyes bright with amusement. He snatches at your wrist, just missing your when you smack his hand away and shuffle towards the foot of the bed as a means of escape. You know this game well, and you know how he plays. Before you can throw anymore shade, a hand catches the crook of your knee and pulls you back towards the headboard.

"Felix!" You shriek, falling back into the plush cloud of pillows and sheets. You're still attempting an escape when he comes to hover over you. Anticipation dances within your eyes.

"I'm gonna have to see this supposed evidence, you know, for research purposes." He says, a teasing lilt in his tone. His hand finds the bare skin of your thigh, welcoming goosebumps in it's wake. You hum, a lighthearted chuckle leaving upturned lips.

"Research purposes, huh?" You reach a hand up to sweep those unruly strands from his face, fingers scratching softly at the back of his scalp. Felix smirks, humming an affirmative that almost sounds like a purr. He leans in, voice low as he stares you down in mock seriousness.

"Of course! They're gonna need a thesis statement!"

"Who?" You scoff, arching a brow.

"Judge and jury, obviously."

The sound of laughter erupts from your lips, your free hand pressing against his chest.

"Obviously." You muse, fingers trailing through golden tresses. "The jury of public opinion... I'm sure you've got some good things to say about me, hm?"

His eyes twinkle with something familiar; that soft admiration that he holds for you. The smile on his face broadens.

"You know I do." Felix's voice is low, teasing, and playful. His gaze heats your skin the longer he stares, deepening pools that pull you in. He dips down, lips brushing yours in a moment of sweet hesitation.

Or, perhaps... he's just teasing like you did.

Your words come out in a whisper through parted lips, grinning at your circumstances.

"Go on, then."

You barely have time to finish your sentence before Felix presses his lips to yours in a heated kiss. One hand finds it's way to the crook of your jaw and your neckline, tilting your head with a delicate touch. Your pulse races even as he takes his time, the heat from his body intoxicating to your senses. You can feel the tension grow with every movement that's made, the soft caresses and slow kisses a reminder that this game of cat and mouse continues.

And right now, the Birthday Boy is winning.

The hand on your jaw falls back to your thigh, slipping higher that before. Your mind blanks, wandering hands gripping onto the fabric of his T-shirt. Just as you're about to throw the ball back in his court, Felix shifts back, allowing both of you to catch your breath.

"Judge, jury... and executioner?" Your voice is hushed, the words a breath against slightly swollen lips. That earns you a chuckle, his fingers slipping under your shirt as your arms trail up to protruding collarbones. They splay over your skin, over curves and muscles that tense with every gentle caress.

"If looks could kill, I'd be a dead man, Love."

A smile tugs at the corners of your lips as your head sinks back against the pillows, your arms snaking around his neck. Felix allows you to pull him down with little argument, no hesitation to lock lips this time. Your fingers curl through soft locks, nails running down the nape of his neck in just the right way that ushers forth a shudder from the man above you. He nips at your bottom lip in retaliation, smirking at the sigh you release.

All thoughts of anything aside from each other slip away as one of your hands slide down the expanse of his chest, fingers twitching with a newfound need. There is nothing else. No one else but the two of you, tangled up in one another. Hearts race as the minutes stretch on. Needy hands pull you closer, squeezing whatever bare flesh is available to them. You break away from him, lips parting in heavy pants and desperation. Felix doesn't stop though, capturing your lips in another long kiss.

Any sly moves you'd thought up to get the upper hand are completely and utterly trampled once he deepens the kiss, hips pressing into your own. You accommodate him, sliding a leg up, hooking around his thigh to pull him closer. If that were even possible. Sleep shorts rustle against skin, hiking higher and higher with every shift.

If your teasing is infuriating, Felix's is something akin to Wonderland - trapping your mind in a haze of desire, spiraling you into madness with just a few caresses and kisses. He won't allow you to push too far without pushing back with everything he has, and everything just means pulling your strings until you've admitted defeat. You're playing a losing game with a man who knows such things a little too well.

Felix's lips leave yours, his teeth nipping at the corner of your mouth and chin before trailing lower to the skin of your jaw and neck. If this keeps up, you don't see an end in sight.

"Lix," You breathe, biting back a moan at his teeth grazing against your pulse point. Your fist clinging on his shirt presses against his chest and Felix lets up, muscles flexing under your touch. Brown eyes find yours, pupils blown in a haze of passion and lust.

"What, what's wrong?" His heart is beating out of his chest as he sucks in air through parted lips. Dark brows furrow, his head tilting at your insistence to stop.

"Nothing," You release his shirt, patting the wrinkles from the fabric. You shake your head. "I just... I left your cake out on the counter."

You already know the response you're about to get, a Cheshire smile taking over as he leans in again.

"I was just getting to that, wasn't I...?"

Wandering hands slide high enough to grab at your bum and you chuckle. Your fingers flex, gripping around lean forearms. Your calf is still hooked around one of his thighs and your eyes burn with some sort of trickery.

Gaining that upper hand.

You're quick about it, pulling your leg back with just enough strength to swap places with him on the bed. Felix just stares up at you, unfazed by your actions. In fact, you're sure he expected it. The fairy lights warm his face, sparkling in the glaze of his dark gaze.

"Cheeky," You mutter, giving him one last kiss before you climb off of his lap and out of bed. "I'll be back. Don't leave this room or there'll be consequences."

"Alright, alright." He says, and you catch the smirk on his face. His brows raise in anticipation when your eyes lock, your threat lingering in the air. An empty threat. The dirty dishes clatter together as you collect them and take your leave, your footsteps fading down the hall. The mattress dips as he shifts, pulling himself up against the headboard. Felix can't help the broad smile that follows, a contented sigh leaving his lungs.

—

"You're bringing that in here?!"

"Babe, just blow out the candle."

You settle on the edge of the bed. Two plates in both hands. Two slices of birthday cake, one with a single candle sitting pretty atop the icing. The flame dances in a make up of hydrogen and carbon, flickering when you shift it closer to him. Felix eyes the plates, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips as he straightens up with a groan. The flame is blown out in one short, heavy breath, the smell of sulfur assaulting your nose.

You hand him both plates, sliding into bed with ease. You situate yourself so you're facing your boyfriend, moving a few pillows behind you to get more comfortable. By the time you focus your attention back on the Birthday Boy, himself, he's already pulled the candle from his slice, digging into the sweet treat.

"Uh, Felix?"

"Hmm?"

He's so shameless in his indulging, mouth full. Icing smudges the corner of his mouth as he hums in approval. You eye the plate sitting on the other side of him - the slice of cake you'd cut for yourself - with a small smile on your lips, holding a palm out in waiting. Brown eyes follow that gaze, pushing the slice of sweetness out of your sight with a sly grin.

"You know, just because it's your birthday doesn't mean I have to play nice all day..." You mutter, eyes narrowing.

All that gets you is a snort of amusement.

"Mm, see, that's where you're wrong, Love." He says, leaning back against the headboard. The fork pierces through his slice a third time, ready and waiting on silver prongs for when he's finished this argument. "You see, it's my birthday. And since it's my birthday, you have this reputation to uphold of being the world's Angel. Especially on my birthday."

The smirk on his face only grows.

"Keep saying birthday and the word will become redundant." You sound annoyed but you're unable to bite back your own smirk while you hold his gaze.

"Have I mentioned it's my bir-" He grunts, chuckling as he soothes the shoulder where your fist connects, "Alright, alright! Gee, didn't know my Baby had a nasty right hook."

"You think that's good, you haven't felt my left." You glare half-heartedly, holding out your hand again. Fingers twitch impatiently. And Felix just stares back, that smirk stuck on quirked lips. After a minute of just this - staring at one another, trying your hardest to not get caught up in staring longingly at your boyfriend - you huff, jutting your bottom lip out in a pout. Desperate times call for desperate measures.

Felix rolls his eyes, setting both plates on the nightstand before he reaches forward to pull you into his lap.

"Forget the cake, alright? You spent all morning making this-" He gestures to the blankets and flat sheets that hang above the bed, hiding the two of you away, "-even though you didn't. Need. To. Let me make it up to you."

"You could make it up to me by letting me have my slice of cake that's dying to be eaten." You chirp, reaching for your plate with a hint of a smile. But as over-the-top as Felix is, he catches your hand mid-air, lacing his fingers with yours. You groan in response, letting your face fall into the soft cotton that envelopes his chest and torso. His chest moves with the lighthearted chuckle it produces and you swear your brain short-circuits.

"Here I am trying to be a loving and appreciative boyfriend, yet all you care about is food!" He chastises, listening for that scoff that he could always draw from you after such remarks are made. And right on time, you do it, letting your free hand fall against his chest.

"No, no." You drawl, tilting your head up to look at him, lips twitching in a feigned grin. "You're right! I spent all morning playing chicken with your unconscious ass and still managed to make this bomb-ass blanket fort. I think all that work I did deserves the slice of cake sitting right. Over. There."

Your matter-of-fact tone is lost on the man, his gaze clearly set on your lips. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, attempting to hide the full-on grin that's determined to take over your face.

"Mm, I dunno..." He says, reaching for his plate once more. The fork is still loaded with fluffy cake and icing when he picks it up, eyeing it with knitted brows. It's held up just out of your reach. Oh, so close. Sunlight dances in dark irises, tiny shards of citrine catching the rays like stained glass as he shifts his focus back to you.

"I think you'll have to work a bit harder for it."

He can't even say it without his eyes falling to your lips. It's painfully obvious where this is going, and yet - once again - you're taking the bait.

"And what's your offer, Mr. Lee?" You question, shifting one leg so you're straddling his thighs. He takes you in with hungry eyes, mouth twitching in a slight grin. Fingers trace their way down his chest in lazy patterns.

"One kiss. One slice of cake." The plate in his grip keeps a slight distance between you, but at this point, you're not afraid to get a little more even from all the teasing earlier.

"You let me have my slice of cake, I'll give you all the smooches you want, Babe."

Your legs shift around him as you lean over the plate, your gaze level with his. Back to this - noses brushing and stalled eye contact and a desire for those fucking lips on yours. You can't make a play now. You've just moved your game piece. You would lose.

It's his turn now.

"That doesn't sound like a fair trade..." He mumbles, and you feel him lean in just a smidge more. Right where you want him.

"Life's not fair, Babe."

Felix's ears twitch at the sound to his left. A fork, screeching lowly over the surface of the plate as you lean back with your delicious prize. Oh, you haven't just grabbed the bait. You've outsmarted the hunter with all the finesse in the world. Left the trap empty and tripped. You smile triumphantly as you watch the muscles in Felix's jaw work.

You. Are. Infuriating.

"Even on my birthday? You are cruel." Felix's free hand comes to rest on one of your thighs that still straddle his own, browns locked steady on yours that roll in mocking exhaustion.

"Takes cruel to know cruel, hm?" You tilt your head at him, stabbing the utensil into the store-bought confectionary. Decadent goodness envelopes your taste buds and you feel the dopamine release of temporary pleasure flow through you. His eyes haven't left yours, deep brown narrowed on the fork that slowly makes its way back and forth from the plate to your lips. Your lips that were so close just a few minutes ago… He's watching you like a dog, waiting for its owner to drop the smallest morsel that it can snatch. It was comical, if you were honest.

"Shouldn't the Birthday Boy be indulging in the rest of his cake?" You ask, brows raised as your fork sinks into the layers of cake. "Or, is that slice for the taking as well? This is just so delicious."

You shouldn't be grinning so wide. Shouldn't be enjoying this as much as you are. But you are. You're relishing the expression on your boyfriend's face as he barely shakes his head, narrowed optics zeroed in, tongue darting out to wet a twitching bottom lip.

You've properly ruffled his feathers. He doesn't know whether to be proud of your victory or jealous of it.

However, he hasn't admitted defeat yet.

The cogs in Felix's mind are working overtime behind dark eyes, you can tell. An internal debate rages. His hand still rests on your thigh, thumb brushing back and forth in soft, slow motions. You're too busy making a show of indulging to notice Felix shove his plate away to the night stand.

"You have a strange idea of cruel, Love."

His comment makes you pause, the fork halfway to your mouth. Felix leans back, his back pressed up against the headboard. He places both hands on your thighs, the muscles tensing under his steady hold. A wave of goosebumps ripple across your skin.

"As much as I enjoy watching you torment me, I think I need to even the playing field." He mumbles. Eyes flicker over your face, studying you. Your reactions.

 The way your breath catches in the back of your throat. The little noise that accompanies it that you're unable to hold back. He tilts his head as he continues, his fingers trailing lightly up the back of your legs. Up… and up… and up.

Oh, Fuck it.

You yelp as your perspective tilts, eyes wide as your back sinks into the mass of pillows and blankets that had been behind you. Felix chuckles above you, a show of pearly whites.

You know why he's laughing.

Blue and white icing smears your neck and part of your jaw, the rest of the cake a mess of color over your chest. And the plate? Well, you're lucky you had chosen the paper ones this time because it wouldn't have survived the fall to the floor.

"Felix!" The look on your face is just priceless, really.

"The sheets-"

"Can be washed!" He cuts you off, glancing down at the mess.

"When I said it takes cruel to know cruel, that wasn't an invitation to challenge me on that."

The shock of being toppled backwards in bed is still working through your mind, nevermind the added mess. But by God, are you narrowing your eyes at the man hovering over you.

"Oh, you have no idea how cruel I could get, Babe." He says, voice lowering as he leans down. His breath cascades over the icing on your neck, pressing an open mouthed kiss to the skin there. The squeak you let out is quiet, but oh boy, Felix hears it.

Your persistence is admirable, he'll give you that.

"You're right." He hums to himself, licking away at the blue and white stuck at the corner of his mouth. "Delicious."

One look into those deep browns and you know.

Retaliation?

Inevitable.

Psst!! If you made it this far, thank you for taking the time to read my work 💕 I appreciate you!

#stray kids #skz #lee felix #stray kids x reader #lee felix x reader #felix x reader #lee felix x you #stray kids felix #lee felix imagines #skz x you #skz smut #stray kids smut #gn reader #x gender neutral reader #quokkawritings🌻

[noisyquokka]

By A Thread...

PAIRING - Chan x GN!Reader

SYNOPSIS - When life leaves you hanging off the end of your rope, fighting on your own is a struggle. You thank the universe for giving you that one person who can always make those struggles a little more bearable.

WORDCOUNT - 3.5k

WARNINGS - TRIGGER WARNING *** Talks/thoughts of suicide, description of panic attacks, anxiety, reader's mental health has tanked (Please don't read if you aren't comfortable with these)*** angst, comfort, emotional support, childhood friends || Please let me know if I missed anything!

A/N - I started this writing piece to help me get through a really tough mental health episode. While I didn't finish it during that time, something brought me back to it recently and it's a bittersweet feeling to have completed it. After thinking about things for a bit, I've decided that I'd post this for anyone else who may be going through those difficult thoughts, or who has in the past. Chan's Room has always been a safe space for me, and I know a lot of us resonate with that.

Knowing this is a heavy fic, I feel it appropriate to leave a link to suicide hotlines. This site has international hotlines for those of you outside of the U.S. as well as other useful info. I know this planet is a questionable place to be existing on at the moment, but the human experience isn't complete without some struggles. We can all get through it, whatever it is we're struggling with. I'm proud of you! 💛

You shut the door to the apartment, slugging your shoes off at the entrance. The stresses of the day weigh heavily on your shoulders, tense and aching as you trudge through the hallway toward your bedroom.

"You're home early." Chan's bubbly voice resonates through the apartment; a welcoming sound. If you would've acknowledged it, that is. Brown eyes shift from the blue-light of the laptop at the lack of a response, catching the ghost of your body whiz through the kitchen from his spot on the sofa. Your footfalls reverberate against the floorboards. It was the door slamming shut, rattling the walls, the electrifying static that had purged into the space. That's when Chan knew that something wasn't right.

You sag against the woodgrain of the door, wrapping your arms around yourself in an attempt of self-consoling as you slowly slide floorward on shaky legs. Breaths come in shallow puffs of air, your lungs constricting like a mouse in the death grip of a python. Everything that had happened today had finally tripped the tidal wave of negative thoughts you had been pushing down for... God knows how long now. You can't remember. All you know is you want it to end before these thoughts drag you too deep into the rabbit hole to where you can't crawl back out on your own.

Trembling fingers wipe the tears from your cheeks, although it seems futile when fresh ones retrace their tracks down your skin. You focus in on your breathing with a shaky breath and furrowed brows. A deep breath in. Hold.

5...4...3...2...1...

A deep breath out.

A soft rapping on the door startles you, shoulders jerking violently. You know who it is before he even speaks your name, voice muffled beyond the barrier of the door, soft and laced with concern.

"Hey, you alright?"

The crease between your brows deepen as your ears pop, drums a void of rumbles and vibrations as if someone stuffed them full of cotton. Teary, bloodshot eyes tilt toward the ceiling.

"Yeah," You wince at the warble in your voice, clearing your throat before trying again. "Yeah! I'm fine, Chan." When no response comes from beyond the door, you know. You know that he knows you are far from fine.

Chan's shadow crawls up the hallway of the shared apartment as he shoulders his weight against the doorframe to your room. He could count the amount of times you two have found yourselves in this very predicament on his fingers three times over. Most nights he'd ask if he could come in and you would both talk about what was bothering you.

Tonight wasn't most nights, though.

Chan shifts himself so his back is against the doorframe, sliding down the woodgrain until he's settled on the wood floor, legs crossed beneath him. He bites the flesh of his cheek at the sound of your sniffles, his heart aching in his chest.

"You wanna talk?" He asks, and you feel your composure cracking at his tone. So courteous and careful, like always. You nod your head, tongue darting out to lick chapped lips and salty tears.

"Sure."

"Alright, let's see..." Chan trails off, taking a deep breath as he racks his brain for a topic. Something to take your mind off your troubles. His lips twitch into a ghost of a smile as he turns his head toward the door. "What's your favourite flower?"

"What?" You scoff, wiping the tears from your cheeks. He begins to repeat himself, and you cut him off.

"You already know the answer to that, Chan."

"Sunflowers." He says, resting an elbow against one knee. "We were what... nine and twelve when you became obsessed with them because Ms. Keller had planted some in her yard down the street." 

Chan's smiling. You can hear it in his voice. 

"When your dad bought some sunflower seeds from the store, you stole some from the bag and I helped you dig a hole in the backyard so you could plant them. You watered them for months until the weather got too cold. They never grew because they were roasted sunflower seeds." He's rattling on as if he's experiencing the memory all over again behind those brown eyes of his.

Your laugh is broken and groggy - a candle's light in the dark, casting away shadows that had built up in the corners of the apartment - but it's the reason that Chan's heart skips when it flows beneath the door.

"Oh my god, I forgot about that," You reply, sniffling behind long sleeves. "I thought if my parents found out we planted them that they'd be mad."

The image of you and Chan sneaking around the yard in search of a shovel and a watering can is a core memory, the spring sunshine kissing your skin. The smell of freshly turned dirt and a handful of salty sunflower seeds is as vivid in your mind as the man beyond the door.

"But the next spring, Ms. Keller came over and helped us plant some sunflowers in your yard because your dad seen us trying to plant his roasted seeds in the far corner of the garden."

You chuckle as Chan recalls the memory, eyes downcast to the floor. Everything was so carefree and enjoyable as a kid, and now it feels like work to find just a fraction of enjoyment in your life. Too much anxiety over whether or not you're on the right path, nevermind worrying that you're going about living life the wrong way. As if there's some manual to go by. Your chest tightens and you hold your breath, wet lashes fluttering.

Everything is quiet for a moment, save for the wall clock ticking softly.

"I understand why you always loved them." Chan says, and for a moment it sounds like words he didn't mean to verbalize. You know him better than that. "They're so vibrant and full of life - just like you."

You swallow down the ball of nerves, but that does nothing to quell your active tear ducts. Chan tilts his head toward the door at the sounds of your untamed whimpers, brows furrowing.

"Can I come in?" His voice is sheer lace, delicate as he reaches out to you. And you are well beyond your breaking point, rubbing at your wet, matted lashes. He listens carefully for the sounds of shuffling beyond the door, or even your verbal consent.

The lock on the door lets off a subtle click as you wrap shaky fingers around the knob and twist. He's off the floor before you can swing the door open, meeting your gaze with ember eyes that shine like the hearth of a home.

There you are.

The one constant in Chan's life since the first grade. You, standing in front of him in your crumbling state, trying desperately to hold yourself together like a tattered flag in a storm; a whole piece of fabric battered and torn by gale force winds, frayed edges violently tearing away until single threads are all that's left.

And there he is. Your life raft saving you from drowning in the choppy waters of your mind. Chan stands with open arms, awaiting the inevitable weight of your head against his chest. Your skeleton rattles against wound muscle and vermilion-coated veins when you take a step forward. As the weight of your world comes crashing down upon his shoulder, he holds you with the utmost care, strong arms encircling you as if afraid that you would break under the pressure. The warmth of his body only eggs on the tears, breaking your composure further as you collapse into him. Sobs wrack your body, muffled in his shoulder. Shaky fingers grasp for something to hold onto.

"It's alright," Chan murmurs, digging his nose into your scalp. You feel him press kisses into your scalp, breathing you in as your tears seep into the fabric of his shirt. Fingers splay against your back, soothing shapes and gentle motions running the expanse of your spine, rocking the two of you back and forth. His warmth cradles you, soothes your pain. You never feel shame in these arms. Only the strongest, surest form of love and support that you could ever find in someone. Chan's heart drums against his chest. "You can let it out, it's just me."

You don't know what Gods had decided that you were worthy of such a soul, but right now the only way you think you can thank them is through your violent sobs. Grief and gratitude blend together. You needed this comfort desperately, and it shows in your inconsolable tears. In how quiet you are, unable to verbalize much of your inner monologue when it's thrashing around the confines of your psyche like a hurricane. If a Category five was the worst, you were sitting at a nonexistent Category seven. Chan's words echo in your mind.

"They're so vibrant and full of life - just like you."

There's no point in trying to compose yourself. The floodgates have opened. You feel yourself overheating and yet you crave the comfort that Chan is offering, whispering words of encouragement as you press your face into his shoulder. Soothing each scar that litters the muscle in your chest that beats like hummingbird wings.

"Am I a bad person for wanting to die?"

Your brain is so overwhelmed that your mouth opens without a second thought. You hope your words fall on deaf ears, what with how most of them were interrupted by broken hiccups and a pounding head. But when Chan's body goes rigid under your touch, you know he's heard you. His grip tightens, your name whispered against your hair as his voice catches in his throat. If he felt something was off when you walked in the door earlier, it was painfully obvious now. You were lost. Utterly lost and alone, sending out an S.O.S in the labyrinth of your miserable mind. He's talked you down from the brink of destruction many times through the years. To say he was heaven-sent would be a severe understatement. But this was different to the others. Hearing those words come from anyone was enough to bowl him over. Hearing them come from your mouth, though? He's never heard you speak this way in all his years of knowing you. He wanted to know what had been the origin of your tears, but this was not where he expected the conversation to go.

Your breath catches as you sense how much your words affected him. Chan's silence weighed heavily in the air, your words sinking into the hard wood floors until they were weighted with lead. You pull away from him, gaze downcast as you wipe away the tears on your face. A flood of guilt crashes over you, throat constricting like a zip tie closing around your esophagus.

Put the mask back on. Rebuild your walls. You've fucked up now.

"I-I'm fine. I didn't mean to- I'm sorry." You turn your head, unable to bring yourself to look at your best friend since childhood as more tears fall from doused lashes. Your chest tremors for putting that burden on him, something you hadn't meant to say in the first place. You've never said those words out loud before. You never wanted people to worry. Never wanted to be a problem for them. But here you stand, bearing intrusive thoughts to your best friend. It was like throwing a pile of bricks at him and expecting him to bear all that weight with no trouble.

"You're not. Look at me, listen to me." He says, taking your shaking shoulders with a gentle yet firm grip to turn you towards him again. Calloused fingers brush against your jaw, tipping your chin up to meet your glassy eyes. Brown optics flicker across your face, moving from feature to feature with the deepest concern. There's an emptiness in your eyes that twists Chan's heart, the ache so miserable that tearing the muscle from behind the wall of marrow would be more bearable than leaving it be. Chan's tone is adamant, steady despite the weight of the words you've just entrusted to him. "No, you're not."

New tears retrace the old tracks down exhausted epidermis, eyebrows sliding in as you feel Chan press another kiss to your scalp, lingering a moment longer than before. Chan's response only causes you more anxiety, unsure what exactly he's referring to. Not fine or not a bad person for having such heavy thoughts? He must pick up on it, quick to speak up again.

"You're not a bad person at all, and I think you know that. You're just struggling right now, and that's okay."

You sniffle and shake your head, fighting against a tidal wave of hysterics.

"But, what if I..." You swallow, your mind so jumbled you're unable to spit out the words in their original form. "What if I can't get through this?"

"Oh, love..." Chan murmurs, his voice tremulous. It takes everything in him to reign in his own tears. The very thought of you giving in to those intrusive thoughts is like driving a dagger through his heart. His hands leave your face and wrap around you again, his strong hold tightening until you're lifted off the ground, cradled in his arms as he walks toward your bed. You are so tired, physically and mentally overwhelmed by his compassion and the gentle way in which he carries you. You fold into him like a tired newborn. Being tucked into secure arms as he lays you in bed feels like something more intimate than anything you've ever known. Chan is quick and careful when he settles in beside you.

"You don't need to say a word," He whispers, brushing stray hairs from your face and wiping your tears. "just listen to me."

You nod, a broken whimper escaping your throat as he pulls you into his arms. Chan rubs your back soothingly, letting you cry like a child, and he holds you like letting you go would be a criminal offense.

"You don't have to tell me what brought you to this point, I don't need to know if you don't want me to." He starts, his voice rumbling through his chest as he speaks. It offers you some modicum of comfort as you rest one of your arms over his torso. He lets out a heavy breath, eyes cast to the ceiling. "You aren't a bad person for having those thoughts. They don't define who you are, or where you're going. The fact that you're telling me this says a lot, that you've been holding this in for God knows how long."

"I'm just- it's so exhausting to keep living." You mumble, wiping at your runny nose. You press yourself further into Chan's side, feeling his arms tighten around you with every shift you make. His gaze falls to you when you speak, taking in every word with sharp ears. "I've had those thoughts, myself, y'know." His voice is thick with unspoken secrets, a heavy breath hitting the crown of your head - shallow and sharp. You lay with your head against his chest, silent as he confesses to his own feelings of hopelessness.

You've never seen Chan lose the façade of the stable best friend. Even through the stresses of high school, he was the rock, a bastion of strength and resilience. But Chan knows. He knows what those thoughts are like, the struggle of falling asleep while trying to fend off cackling demons from the foot of the bed. The pain of trying so hard to fit the mold that society has crafted, that every single individual is expected to fit to a T.

Perhaps that's why he knows how to soothe you, how to take care of you and hold back his own tears. Even if he doesn't know how frayed and weathered your thread on this life is.

"I never told you about them. Never told anyone, really. I put all my feelings into songwriting, even if I never released half of them." Chan's body relaxes beneath you as the weight of his secrets leaves him. A half-hearted sigh. A lazy hand traces the curve of your back in a calming gesture, the rhythm of his fingers almost hypnotizing.

"You always believed in my impossible dreams... encouraged me to pursue them like it was your calling in life. You made me happy through all of my downfalls." You pick your head up at his words, resting your chin against his breast. Two pairs of eyes lock on one another. There's a ghost of a smile quirking Chan's lips after a moment, brown eyes glowing like the embers of a fire.

"You're one of the good ones." He pauses, bringing a hand up to swipe at the stray hairs in your face, running his fingers through the locks like he always does. "You're so much that this world doesn't deserve, but everything that is needed. Just like those sunflowers that summer. Little seeds that were waiting for their chance to shine, and you lit them up like little beacons of hope."

Even though fresh tears are streaming down your face, Chan beams at the soft laugh that you release. It's genuine this time, unbroken and featherlight. Childlike. These tears aren't ones of hopelessness and sleepless nights, but of gratitude and love for the person embracing you. The way Chan speaks to you, the way he's willing to offer up his strength and his heart without expecting anything of you in return is exactly what you need. In a world filled with harsh realities and high expectations and constant beat downs, he is the personification of empathy. His voice calms your anxious mind, even if his words don't completely wipe out the heavy storm. He tames it, eases the hurricane force winds and manifests a steady rain that could lull you to sleep.

"I'm not going to let you drown, alright. I know things seem rough right now, but you've accomplished so much and you're gonna do so much more." Chan's eyes burn into yours, unwavering in his conviction. You feel the pad of his thumb against your cheek as he wipes more tears away, the heat and passion in his expression shifting to tenderness as he speaks. "As long as I'm here, you'll never be alone in this."

His words are the affirmations you've told yourself for months, fighting your negative thoughts with positivity that only worked for so long. But the words held an air of certainty coming from Chan. There's value in them. It's the first time in a long time that hearing someone - even yourself - telling you that it's going to be okay brings you some semblance of peace, of safety. Knowing that things can get better given a little time. Sunflowers only bloom after some tender loving care; you learned that back when you were kids. 

God damn, were you determined back then...

Every fiber of Chan's body exudes safety as he run his hands through your hair, your tears faltering with every delicate touch as you shed the weight of inner phantoms that you've repressed for forever. Your eyes close at the gesture, feeling his heartbeat thunder beneath your palm.

"You take care of me, I take care of you. Like it's always been."

You pick up on the strain in his tone, eyes wide when you open them again. Tears threaten to spill over Chan's lower lashes, unable to hold back those emotions any longer. Your fingers are still trembling lightly when you reach up and wipe them away, mirroring the actions he's been calming you with all night. You feel the arm around your torso squeeze you once, almost a silent thank you for that comfort, even in the state you're currently in.

"You ok?" He asks.

"Not quite," You mutter, sniffling as you keep your eyes on him. "but I'm better than I was an hour ago. All thanks to you."

Chan smiles; one of those smiles that isn't much, but somehow it still reaches his eyes.

"Good, that's good." He pulls you further up, pressing his fingers into your spine. "Now how about I order us some take out and you and I sit and watch a movie? Maybe that new one that you said looks laughably terrible? Or a comfort movie? Your choice."

"Can we lay here for ten more minutes?" You ask. You've already dropped your head against his chest, eyes closed as you listen to his heart thump against sturdy muscle.

"Ten more minutes. Twenty, if you need. I'm not going anywhere." Chan's reply is soft and slow as he continues to hold you close, your tears drying as seconds turn to minutes. You melt into his warmth, pressing further against his neck. Chan mirrors you, a silent reassurance that he's here; now and always.

In Chan's arms you're both so small, so powerless as you confront the demons that have long haunted you. There's no rushing here. Healing isn't a process that can be rushed. He doesn't need you to say a word or do anything. There's nothing more to say, no. He'll just hold you with everything he has. You relax against him, breaths evening out as you feel exhaustion take over.

As your eyes close, you feel the past few months recede.

The future seems less daunting. Just as the pieces shatter, you are finally ready to begin picking them up and piece them back together. It'll get ugly; viscous and foreboding. But Chan is willing to help you with such a demanding process.

That's everything that keeps you going.

It's what keeps you alive.

If you made it this far, thank you for taking the time to read my work 💕 I appreciate you!

#stray kids #skz #bang chan #stray kids x reader #skz x you #bang chan x reader #skz x reader #bangchan x reader #skz chan #gn reader #x gender neutral reader #quokkawritings🌻 #cw sui mention

[noisyquokka]

The In-Betweens

PAIRING - Minho x GN!Reader

SYNOPSIS - After a year of cat and mouse, Minho realizes his mistake too late. Will he be able to convince you that he's invested in something more?

WORDCOUNT - 7.7k

WARNINGS - Angst, hurt/comfort, some fluff, a lil suggestive, miscommunication, One Night Stand turns to No Strings Attached turns to Fear of Commitment, Minho is bad with serious romantic relationships, emotional-support Soonie (it's a warning in its own right, thank you very much!)

A/N - It's been a while friends, but I'm back...? And I'm bringing the angst train with me! I've written a lot (and I mean A LOT!) of fluffy, happy, cute shit over the years of having this Tumblr, and I've been absolutely hankering for some good angst because I'm a little masochist who loves ripping my own heart out and splattering it onto concrete. So without further ado…

The 8th floor apartment is deathly silent for being situated in the heart of Seoul, Minho thinks. Or perhaps it's the indisputable ringing in his ears that scrambles his senses. He shoulders the front door closed, leaning back into it once the mechanism latches as tired optics scan the dimly lit space. 

The apartment sat the same as it always had at this hour - shadows crawling up beige walls, reaching toward the empty sofa that Minho swore he would replace at some point. The damn thing is about as comfortable as a cardboard box. 

Still, Minho found himself stalking towards the godforsaken thing, tossing his jacket over the back as he crashed against the back of the couch like a crumbling building. An exasperated grunt leaves his lungs, muscle and bones sinking into the weaved cushions like soil reclaiming his remains. 

Gone. 

The apartment was so quiet because you were gone. No longer a home as he had began to think every time he walked in to see your shoes by the door, or a spare toothbrush in the bathroom cabinet next to his. You weren't humming along to the playlist you'd put on whilst making dinner for the two of you. Because you left. Brown eyes close at the realization. Not that Minho had to realize it, no. It was merely a reminder along with the white-noise that whirred within his eardrums as he stumbled closer and closer to his apartment door every night. 

The whirring in his ears stopped only at the weight of a furry shadow against his calf and then his chest. Brown optics met green feline ones as Soonie hopped onto the couch beside his caretaker. Minho visibly relaxed at the cat's presence, deft fingers conforming to orange tabby fur. Content purrs vibrated through one being into the other, melding the two souls into one.

"Soonie..." He breathes, melting even further into the couch as Soonie nuzzles his head against Minho's jaw, white-socked paws kneading softly into his clothed chest. "I fucked up, didn't I?"

The question was more rhetorical than anything. Of course, you fucked up, dumbass! You led them on for months. It was stupid of him to think that you would stick around after months of the push and pull. To be frank, Minho didn't expect this fling to last as long as it did - nevermind evolve into more. 

What could he say? 

He began to enjoy your company a little more than he anticipated. Those moments with you were ingrained in every wrinkle of his brain, more than half of them in this very apartment. Hell, you had never moved in with him, but the amount of time you spent here made it seem as such. Along with the amount of personal belongings that slowly accumulated. He remembers the night he'd teased you about it.

"Not even three months and you're already moving in?" His breath tickles the skin at the back of your neck, chills raising over the exposed flesh as he presses a chaste kiss there. You shudder at the contact, attempting to keep your focus on the eggs currently sizzling over the stove top. The Seoul skyline burns with the start of a new day, casting a persimmon glow through the apartment.

"Mm, I wouldn't consider a toothbrush and a few clothes 'moving in', Minho." You counter, reaching down for the arm that rests over your waist, holding you against him. "Offer's tempting though. Your shower's a hell of a lot better than mine."

Lips twitch at your comment, a faux smirk that chokes him out.

What the fuck...

You had stayed the night again - the fifteenth time in a row now, Minho notes. Not that it bothered him; having a warm body to lie with in place of cold sheets. It had the muscle in his chest working overtime, pumping blood to every last inch of his being, washing over him like a drug. 

That was what bothered him. 

Before you get a chance to turn around, nimble fingers reach for the spatula in your grip, a murmur of, "I got it". A sly grin. That arm around your waist leaves you as the man's attention is taken up with finishing breakfast. 

The usual sounds of the kitchen take over - the sizzling skillet, dishes and utensils clinking, low-fi thumping through the Bluetooth speaker on the kitchen island. Feline trills are a welcome sound as you pull the dishes out of the overhead cupboard. Orange cream hops onto the kitchen counter and nuzzles against your torso in greeting. You glance down to meet sea glass and twitching whiskers.

"Morning, handsome." You coo, fingers carding through the short hairs atop his head. Soonie meows in response, stretching his neck into your palm as you massage his cranium in circular motions. He purrs at the contact, completely mesmerized by your magic fingers. Minho catches the interaction from the corner of his eye, lips pulling back in a grin. 

You hum to yourself as you continue - one hand petting the greedy feline, the other pulling the dishes needed from the cupboard - and Minho can't help his gaze from straying to the source of the sound.

Fucking stunning, he thinks to himself, spatula resting against the edge of the pan. Sun-kissed legs sway along with your hips as you get lost in the beat of the seemingly endless playlist. 

And he gets lost in you.

He swallows as his gaze travels upwards. The shirt that covered your shoulders had belonged to him at one point, baggy and loosely hanging low enough to hide the expanse of your thighs. Were you even wearing shorts? He couldn't recall if they were still strewn somewhere in the hallway with the rest of your discarded garments from the night prior. No matter, it seemed you'd staked your claim to his clothes like Soonie claims the warm, sunny spot near the window in the living room. Even farther, and Minho finds himself at your neck and jaw - the flesh there peppered in deep hues of red and purple. A temporary claim of his own. He grins at the thought -

"-Minho!"  

"Ah, fuck!"

You're beside him in an instant, turning the burner off and rushing the skillet to the sink. Cold water douses raging heat, burnt eggs slipping over the edge of the pan into the sink along with bits of melted plastic. You sigh, leaning against the marbled countertop. You feel Minho's presence over your shoulder, a sigh of his own leaving him. A quiet moment passes, save for the fading sounds of the cooling pan hissing.

"When you said you had it, I sure as hell didn't expect you to mean you were cooking the spatula." You chide, turning to face him. He chuffs at your comment, eyebrows raising as the space between the two of you dwindles to none. 

"I'll have you know that you are the worst distraction this side of interstellar space." 

'Fuck, did I just say that? Out loud?' Minho swears his head is spinning, the scent from your body wash egging it on in the close proximity. 

Your gaze narrows on him and you tilt your head, instinctually wrapping your arms around his neck. Pulling him impossibly closer. Contact that has the man inwardly keening. Like fucking magic, you were.

"Oh, so I'm the problem, huh?" You say, mock disbelief laced in your tone. Your ability to keep the energy playful was godly, even as Minho felt the snare tighten around his neck. You don't seem to notice though, and he keeps up with your banter ten-fold, warm hands settling on your waist. The fabric of your shirt bunches in his grip.

"The biggest problem, baby," He mutters, leaning so close that his breath fans over your lips. His grip on you is firm, one hand traveling up the side of your body until it finds a home at the junction of your neck and shoulder. He feels your pulse sing beneath the skin. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were distracting me on purpose."

He watches you roll your eyes, even as you lean into that touch, a hint of a grin on your lips. Heat floods the back of his neck when you run your fingers through the dark tresses of hair that reside there. Minho catches the groan in the back of his throat.

"Are you sure you're not just... terrible at focusing?" You prod, smoothing down the wrinkles in his t-shirt before your eyes lock with his again. There's a spark in yours - notes of collected mischief that only you could hold for the man in front of you.

"I am more than capable of focusing," He says, but as large hands squeeze the flesh at your waist, you read his actions well enough. 

His hand on your neck moves north, capturing your chin in his fingertips to angle your head upward. Brown optics bore into yours, flitting down to bitten lips, long fingers smoothing the skin with delicate strokes. Then, he's leaning down, and you barely have time to react to the all-encompassing feeling of his mouth on yours. 

He's already deepening the kiss, a rumble within his ribs that sounds like the purring of a cat at the sensation of your nails embedding themselves in the back of his head, teeth grazing the plush of his bottom lip. He revels in the sound that leaves your chest - something between a groan and a sigh. Minho feels himself crashing, the floor beneath him shaky as if a sinkhole is ready to give way. 

This feels too domestic. 

Too real. 

His lungs shrivel in his chest, heart thundering behind its marrow cage with a vengeance. Buried six feet below the surface, alive and struggling to survive long enough to dig himself out. But you've got him ensnared - every time he attempts his escape, you're pulling that cord tighter - like a raptor struggling to break the net caught around its wings. The feeling akin to... anxiety, was it? He needs out and you're not allowing it. 

Minho feels you pull back before he has the chance, heads in a collective haze as you laugh breathily. Foreheads connect, a semblance of comfort for the man; grounding him to the present moment. The apartment is quiet again, aside from two erratic hearts beating and a feline purring somewhere. Finally, you speak up - whispered words kissing his cheeks.

"Got any baking soda?" 

Those brown eyes blink open at your question, brows creasing against your forehead. 

"For?"

"Saving your skillet."

He chuckles, velvet and silk bouncing off the walls of the kitchen, and you can't help how much you love the sound. 

"Bottom cabinet next to the fridge. Middle shelf." 

Minho thinks that your smile never looks as genuine as when you direct it at him. So much authenticity from one individual... for one individual. Was that even possible? 

The cabinet door shuts with a thud, bringing him back to you and the current mess. You work like a well-oiled machine - pulling the handle of what was once the plastic spatula out of the pan, emptying the soggy eggs and water. Minho watched from over your shoulder as you filled the pan just enough to cover the melted plastic and mixed in the right amount of baking soda before placing the pan back on the stove. In reality, you didn't need to do this. Minho would buy a new one if he had to. But you were so quick to fix the mess he'd made, he didn't even bother telling you to stop.

"There! Once it starts to simmer," You clasp your hands together, turning away from the active burner with a look of pride, "the plastic should come up and your skillet will be saved."

The kitchen stared back at him, shrouded in a void. Even without the lights on, Minho could see the demons in the deepest shadows, phantoms that swirled and floated over the space like lions hiding in tall savannah grasses, surveying. Sizing up potential prey. 

And Minho was the prime rib of a wildebeest grazing away from its herd, none the wiser to the salivating maws camouflaged in the desert brush. 

He spots that same skillet on the stovetop - melted plastic a distant memory as you did, indeed, save it. Now, he wishes he'd bought a new one. 

You and Minho had agreed to keep this fling 'no strings attached' from the beginning. And while you had agreed, he couldn't help but notice the difference in your behaviour as the weeks progressed to months. Perhaps you had just gotten more comfortable with him. Let your walls fall the more you got to know him. All Minho knew was that the way you treated him made his chest fuzzy, like carbonation rising to the top of a just-opened soda can. 

The first time he'd felt that was five months in - a simple text message... 

'Can we talk?'

In any other circumstance, Minho would've been unbothered by those three words. Can we talk. It was what you'd expect from your spouse when things weren't going too hot, or an ex wanting to explain themselves, wanting another chance. Someone who wanted to end things. His heart had never tightened in his chest like it had that evening. 

He wondered if he had done something to offend you. Expected you to tell him things weren't working for you and this whole fling was over and done. In the anxiety of it all, he still managed a calm reply of, 'Yeah. Whenever you're ready.'

The reality was that you just needed an outlet to rant about the shit day you'd had at work. Something about your supervisor expecting more from you than the rest of the team you were working alongside. Minho barely comprehended what you were upset about, too enthralled by the searing embers in your eyes through the video call and the passion in your chest as you spoke about the job that you loved and the people that made it less enjoyable for you. If anyone would have walked into his apartment and saw him, they would've thought he was talking with his spouse. The man held nothing but admiration and respect in his eyes for the person on the other end of the call. 

He'd only realized how little he'd been listening when you huffed in exhaustion, heavy palms pressing into sleep-ridden optics. 

"Alright, alright, I'm done ranting for tonight." You'd mumbled, lips twitching into a shy smile. You were never shy with him, what with the way your first meeting ended with the both of you in his bed. And yet you sat in your room, picking at the skin of your cuticles and tried your darndest to evade those brown eyes like a child being scolded by an adult. You had just unloaded about something that didn't even pertain to the guy, never mind your relationship with him. 

He probably doesn't even care. Why did I text him, of all people?

"For tonight?" Dark brows shot up in amusement, a smirk slashing his lips. "So I should expect another call tomorrow?" 

"N-no! That's not what I meant, Minho."

He watched on as you fidgeted with the charging cable that had been connected to your phone, still avoiding his gaze. You had been frazzled, but Minho's teasing had twisted the frayed wires that made up your nerves and grounded you a bit; he could tell. Finally, your gaze slipped from the oh-so-fascinating charging cable and back to him. Somewhere in Minho's foggy mind, letters subconsciously swirled into syllables - and syllables into words - until a full phrase was crafted. Sitting there in a ribcage that fluttered with butterflies. Longing eyes stared at one another through a screen, two people separated by a few city blocks. The phrase weaved through glass and pixels - every molecule that inevitably made up a sentence slithered up vocal chords only to get snuffed out in the last second once you spoke up.

"Thank you."

Minho's ears had twitched at those words, the genuine whole-heartedness in your tone. It had just about bowled him over. He recovered, though; back to his playful and teasing self. A simple jerk of the shoulder. 

"It's no problem."

The connection had gone dead for a moment, your smile frozen in a fraction of time even as your voice rolled through the speaker again.

"I'm being genuine, you know."  The connection returns and Minho remembers to breathe. "All teasing aside, I don't normally rant about my frustrations to my hookups..."

"Well, I'm happy to help you release your frustrations in more ways than one."

"Aaand I'm hanging up!" 

He had to chuckle at the memory, even as the demons on his shoulders cackle like jesters. Something shifted that night. Minho didn't know exactly what that shift meant for his relationship with you, but he felt it in every interaction from that moment on. He still feels it now as the blue light of his phone glares back at him. His thumb scrolls aimlessly through his social feed, posts and photos flying by in a blink.

It's not the distraction he was hoping for. The search bar at the top of the screen beckons him; just one tap of the finger, and their profile is at the top of your history. It has the muscles in his hand twitching. 

With a few swipes, all background apps are closed and the phone is put to sleep. He shoves the device away with a heaving sigh. Things were going... good? 

Weren't they?

This was what he had wanted, right?

It was a fling. No strings to complicate it. Just a way to pass time. To not be alone.

Shaky hands press into distressed denim, nails tearing the fibers apart as he wracks his brain. He digs deeper and deeper, excavating the mountainous terrain of thoughts and memories that he's had over the past year with you. Evidence that one could hold against him if he denied his feelings. Feelings were dangerous.

We weren't lovers. We were just two strangers wanting to fill spare time in our lives.

If the worst lies can torch the soul, Minho was a living effigy; burning alive with each lie he tells himself, affirmations to rewire the way he thinks about you. It's the homecoming to Hell and he'll be lucky to walk away from such torment. Demons get off on torment, after all.

You never thought you'd get attached, did you?

His shoulders set, muscles beneath the skin knotted with tension. The ringing swallows his hearing again. Soonie can't calm the death rattle this time, as much as he tries to.

His excavating turns impulsive and desperate; the metaphorical rocks, mud, and clay displaced from the caverns ceilings, only to crush him under its weight. The earth shifts as he attempts his escape, but he's only digging himself a deeper grave. He's fucking helpless. And yet, through the haze, he spots the ray of light that promises comfort and release.

A tear tracks down his cheek as he reaches for the discarded phone once more. Deft fingers navigate back to the homepage of his socials. One tap of the search bar. Another tap on the first profile in his search history.

And there you were to save him, digging through the mass of soil like a trained canine successfully sniffing out the soul trapped under the rubble. 

Your profile was a mix of your favored things and selfies. Minho had found himself checking your posts when he was bored, unbeknownst to you since neither of you followed one another. He found your posts to be interesting at first. Didn't take long for periodic profile peeks to turn into subconscious ones. 

You had him before his mind could even attempt to intervene with what his heart wanted. 

Truth's pain can never be outrun, but Minho was stubborn enough to try. He'd run himself into the ground instead, assisted in sparking the flames that engulfed your relationship. Fractions of the argument he'd started echo in his head. Words he could never take back.

"What, you thought just because we spent more time together these past few months that I'm suddenly obsessed with you? That all this bonding and bearing souls is gonna end in some fucking fairytale ending for the both of us?"

Your eyes widened, the sudden change in his demeanor made your head spin. The two of you had gone out to the movies tonight, even spent some time at a nearby arcade afterward. Everything was going so well, until it wasn't... 

You didn't expect your teasing joke about having a "date night" to so catastrophically backfire. 

"Where's all this coming from, Minho?"

For the first time since you met, you swore the person talking was an imposter. The words that spilled from his lips seemed to flow so easily for him. You hated it. Minho's gaze darkened, shoulders wound tight in a way that sent up a flag of caution in your mind. It had you so confused that you didn't even realize the snake coiled in the grass. 

"You knew what you were getting into." His voice is unnervingly low, fists clenched so tight you swear they crack under the pressure. "This was nothing more than a fling. It's not my fault that you can't control your feelings."

Your gaze hardened. The air between you had shifted; it's charged. Tense. He's standing so close to you and yet a concrete wall separates the two of you for miles. Your eyes find his and you can't recover. Those same eyes that had become a safe haven for you - warm and teasing and always inviting - were now pools of stagnant muddy water. The viper grows restless the longer you stare, baring fangs in a show of agitation. You shake your head.

"Well fuck, tell me how you really feel. Please." 

You hated that your voice cracked. 

Minho hated that your voice cracked. 

His chest strained with every word from you, ensnared by glassy eyes and the attempt at sarcasm. Still, the emotions flowed from you like a broken dam. It came to you so easily; expressing emotions. Minho loved that about you. And he hated that he loved it. The man sees red because of it.

"This was a mistake. I knew it from the moment we agreed to this."

"Then why bother wasting all this time on me, huh?" Your quick response only fuels his frustration, but you don't notice. "We've been at this for a whole year, and now you're trying to tell me this has been nothing but a-"

"You really think I enjoy spending all my time with someone so fucking needy?" The venom drips from the viper's fangs as it strikes, piercing the muscle deep within your chest. His words reverberate through the kitchen as he unloads his frustrations on you. A flash of orange and white zips past the kitchen entrance, searching for comfort deeper in the apartment. Somewhere deep in Minho's psyche, the rational little guy is attempting damage control, to no avail. The man is wound so tightly that words fly with no filter. Venom floods your veins.

You're nothing more than a fling. 

Just like every other person before you.

You stand there, waiting for him to come down from his epic high. You didn't know where this had came from, considering everything seemed fine between you two since the beginning. Perhaps it was a lapse of judgement on your part. Even so, you didn't deserve the modest amount of insults and hurtful words that he threw at you.

Once he's done, you wait with baited breath and a maimed soul. The apartment is deathly silent aside from the rasped breathing and shuffling of pacing feet. Slender fingers run rampant through dark locks. When Minho turns around to face you, you finally speak; voice as calm and steady as you can muster.

"Are you done?"

You hadn't looked away in the past three minutes since he'd began tearing into you. You couldn't allow yourself to. You had yet to say anything in this exchange that you would regret. As much as he had hurt you, you couldn't allow yourself to hurt him back. Shots had been fired and you had taken every last bullet, felt it tear and burn the chasms of your soul like acid.

Minho breaks first. Dark optics shut, accompanied by a heaving sigh that shrivels his lungs. The guilt hits like a freight train, metal slamming into his chest repeatedly. But he doesn't get ample time to recover from it because you're moving in his peripheral. He watches you reach for your belongings on the kitchen counter - phone, bag, earbuds. You reach for the jacket you'd brought along. The night had been going so well.

It wasn't supposed to end like this...

You shrug the piece on with a heavy heart, the fleece cloaking you in a warmth you know you won't find in this place any longer. Minho stands there wracking his brain for the apology he's searching for. God, he fucking despises himself.

"You know, all I needed to hear was that this wasn't working for you anymore. I would've just left it as it is." Your voice was as steady as before. Soft. Even. A whisper through the trees. Minho swears you have more to say, a pause that has your throat visibly taught. If you did, you shoved it down, turning towards the door where your shoes sit in waiting. They slip on easily, bringing you one step closer to what Minho is dreading. 

But how could he expect anything less after everything he'd said?

You turn to face him for the last time, searching voided optics for any semblance of guilt or regret from the past fifteen minutes of back and forth. But even as Minho's dealing with his internal battles, his expression on his face is one of stoicism. You couldn't read him. 

Fingers grasp the door handle, subconsciously tightening around brass. You take in the apartment for the last time, tongue darting out to wet dry lips before you find his shadow again. The door opens with a subtle click and your brows crease. You can't bring yourself to say a goodbye. It's not what you want, after all. So you settle on the current thought that stabs at your skull.

"Mixed signals aren't as sexy as you might think." Your eyes pierce through him, a fire extinguished as you make your leave.

The door closes behind you with a thud. A gunshot, Minho believes. Because as much as you had tried not to hurt him, your attempts were futile. 

His soul bleeds out on the kitchen floor.

How foolish one could be. 

Minho knew there was some truth to his words that night. He knew he would probably break your heart at the end of it all, mostly on account of his shitty communication when he felt it was time to quit an arrangement. But then again, he'd never dealt with feelings like this before. Never had to fight with himself over whether or not the spike in his pulse was just a mish-mash of lust and desire, or an all-encompassing love that set his heart aflutter. 

And then there you were.

With your domestic affections and your heart-shuttering behaviour. How the fuck could he think over anything when you were around? He may as well cease to exist.

Brown optics rove over the latest post on your profile, a photo that he had taken during one of your many "dates" together. A weekend trip that Minho had mentioned to you on a whim after you'd had a particularly shitty week of work. He had planned everything out, much to your surprise, but you couldn't have asked for a better weekend. You'd spent all night talking about anything and everything during the train ride, and while Minho wouldn't have chosen the night train in any other circumstance, he knew that he'd enjoy it with you. Even if you had fallen asleep, having you there would've been enough. You had arrived at Jeongdongjin station and made it to the coast just in time to experience the ocean waking in tandem with the sun. You hadn't noticed at the time, but Minho had pulled his phone out and captured the fleeting moment with the press of a button. He had never confessed that you had been the main focus of the photo.

The entirety of that weekend had chewed your relationship up and spit it out somewhere in between for Minho. 

Somewhere in between nails tearing bed sheets and plush lips pressing against knuckles. Borrowing old T-shirts and sharing breakfast in bed. Somewhere in between two strangers giving in to their carnal desires and a thick band of silver sitting pretty in a velvet box, weighing heavy in one's front pocket. A much needed weekend getaway spelled more questions than answers that only brought on more conflicts between head and heart.

Only now, he realizes that's exactly what he needed. 

The time on his phone reads 9:57 PM. Minho's fingers curl gently through Soonie's fur as he thinks over his options.

Drowning in his guilt sounds fitting, maybe a bit unhealthy. But he's fought his heart tooth-and-nail for the past few months. And it's gotten him a front row seat to his own self-destruction. Nowhere good, that's for certain!

Minho zeros in on the apartment door with a burning in his gut and a newfound determination. Feline eyes track the shape of his caretaker, hardwood creaking with each hurried step. The door shuts with a resounding thud. 

The apartment is quiet until a quiet chirrup! leaves Soonie's throat. Tabby fur preens as pink toe beans reach forward in a big stretch, tail high and nails protracting with a lazy abandon. A moment passes - tail twitches, a yawn presenting little white fangs, a pink tongue wetting whiskers - before he hops off the sofa and makes the long journey to his human's bedroom. Green eyes survey the room upon entering. 

A pile of dirty clothes lay on the floor at the foot of the bed, Minho's no doubt from the scent. Soonie knows his human hasn't been doing too well. He can sense the inner turmoil every morning when he wakes up, every evening when he comes home. And as much as he tries to comfort him, Soonie knows he can only bring so much relief. 

Whiskers twitch at the familiar scent he's searching for, padding through the bedroom towards the bathroom. A hoodie lays in the doorway, hiding a few other garments beneath. Your clothes. Left behind like most of your belongings that night. He greets the fabric with short trills and soft sea glass; a sort of joyful hello, I've missed you to a long-lost friend. He analyzes the heap before making the executive decision of curling up in it. 

Minutes pass, a city muted by glass barriers. Green eyes close. A deep sigh is released. 

The feline settles in for a cat nap.

ᓚᘏᗢ~~~ᓚᘏᗢ~~~ᓚᘏᗢ~~~ᓚᘏᗢ~~~ᓚᘏᗢ~~~ᓚᘏᗢ~~~ᓚᘏᗢ

The city bustles with nightlife, even at 10:26 on a Wednesday. Your feet ache from the busy work day, having been pulled every which way since the start of your shift. Now, all you wished for was to get home and melt beneath a steaming showerhead. 

Unfortunately, the promise of a nice shower doesn't hold off the severe storm in your mind that is Lee Minho.

You wish that four weeks of no contact would've been the cure for you, but alas. One year with someone doesn't exactly make it easy to erase them from your memory, fling or not. And right now, you'd give anything for some concoction that would wipe the slate clean. The distance didn't help. It only kept you locked inside your head, Minho's words - the good and the bad - glued to every last nerve ending of your brain. 

If you were honest with yourself, you would admit that this illusion that you had manifested was crazy. You and Minho weren't anything beyond two people messing around. You'd fucked around with other people before him without feelings getting involved. But as they say, you can't help who you fall for. The heart wants what it wants. So on and so forth. 

You shake your head as you enter the apartment building, keys rattling in your grasp. One of two elevators is waiting patiently for you and you silently thank the elevator Gods for such hospitality. You press the floor to your apartment, stepping back until your back hits the wall. A sigh leaves you, free hand finding purchase at the bridge of your nose. Your fingers press into the corners of tired eyes, encouraging fuzzy stars behind the lids.

Fuck, what a fool you had been.

All this overthinking has you utterly exhausted.

Perhaps Minho was right; you should have hit the brakes, sealed the cap on your own feelings months ago. But then the what ifs invade your rational thoughts. What if this fling would've worked out? What if Minho had felt the same way for you? What if you had moved in after all, and all those lingering glances and teasing banter was more than a lustful attraction?

What if you keep up this stupid fantasy until the band-aids no longer hide the cracks? 

The thought stings, like slicing your heart with a serrated blade. 

The elevator halts it's journey, pulling you from your intrusive thoughts with a Ding! You make your exit and head down the main hall of the fourth floor. You really need some closure, or a distraction. Maybe both. Both sound good, you think. Or maybe some good ol' reverse psychology. 

What's the point of moping about some guy who was only interested in a quick fuck, right? 

God, now you're fucking grasping at straws. 

All you're realizing is that, lately, your mental hurdles begin and end with Lee Minho. You give up for now, because at this point, there's no winning with your rose-colored glasses on. What you need is a warm shower and a comfort food to go along with a comfort show. 

You turn the corner, steps faltering at the familiar shadow standing a few feet down the hall. Your heart strains against your chest.

"Minho."

Your voice knocks him from his stupor, glancing away from the numbers adorning your apartment door to lock eyes with you. He was here, like an answered prayer. Only you crossed that prayer off your list the moment you left him standing in the entrance of his apartment. Lucifer was laughing up at you from the deepest circle of Hell.

You knew that as much as you attempted to hide your feelings for him, Minho could read you like an open book. On the other hand, Minho was a novel of riddles, every sentence more cryptic than the last. You spent the last few months trying your hand at unscrambling the secrets behind his mannerisms, to no avail. The man rode the middle line at all times. And now, you needed to heal the papercuts that littered your heart.

You straighten at the sound of your name falling from his lips. 

"I uh - you.. you're home late." His voice wavers, and suddenly the carpet beneath his feet is super interesting. Fingers anxiously rub the nape of his neck. Again, you stand before this man, confusion etching the lines of your forehead. 

The Lee Minho you know doesn't act like this. Anxious and fidgeting like a nerved up school boy. He's quite the opposite; bold, confident, if a bit effervescent. 

You remember you haven't answered him, blinking back to the present.

"Yeah... double shift." 

He nods at your short response. You can't be bothered to mask the exhausted irritation in your tone, too focused on the fact that he's standing here at all. Minho's expression holds something akin to relief, and for a moment you find yourself hoping that it's because of you. You internally slap yourself on the wrist for it.

"You don't usually take doubles."

"Why are we doing this, Minho?" You ask, exasperation heavy in your tone. Keys clatter against bits and bobbles, attached to the keyring that's hooked securely around your index finger. "What are you doing here?"

You're already sick of this forced small talk. Sick of tip-toeing around feelings. You're not sure what Minho's intentions are after weeks of no contact, and frankly, you aren't sure you have the energy to care. 

Minho tears his hand from the base of his neck, fingers lacing together at the crown of his skull. The frustration that radiates from him is obvious, even more so when his lips thin into a snarl. You're suddenly wondering if he's here to rip into you again. The fluorescent lights hum a monotonous tune as you stand there watching him shoot daggers at unseen phantoms down the hall. Realization hits then.

"You can't answer that because you don't even know, yourself." 

You can't help the mocking chuckle that rumbles through your chest. He walks all this way only to stand here like a cornered feral cat. That's fucking rich! 

Minho startles at your shoulder brushing his arm, wide eyes narrowing as you fumble for the key to your apartment. Dark optics burn steady on your back, but you do your best to ignore them. Nickel-plated brass shimmies into the lock, aligning the pins in the mechanism. You turn the key.

"I was right," His voice is permafrost, freezing the muscles and joints of your hand on the door knob like some kind of magic spell, "when I said this thing between us was a mistake."

"Go home, Minho-" Your fingers press against brass, slipping into the entrance with a steeping burn beneath your skin. Minho has lived this scene once. Didn't like the ending the first time. He's the only one who can change it.

Minho feels you pushing away, so he pulls back. 

The door stops short of the frame. You look up to find sharp eyes already on you.

"I was right because I knew I would fuck this up with you."

Your body freezes in its place, hips stiff as his words bounce off ringing eardrums. Slim fingers clench against the woodgrain, broad shoulders taking up the sliver of space that's left. Your brows crease above narrowing optics, taking in the enigma of a man before you. There's a cautious plea swimming just beneath dark, tired irises. 

Hear me out. Please. 

A moment passes of just this; a staring contest between two souls, peeling back epidermis to discover the treasures hidden under it's surface. Down the hall, a door rattles it's frame, slammed shut by the careless and exhausted tenant who resides there. It's a draw, with the both of you blinking simultaneously. Maybe... 

When you haven't made a move to close the door, you know your mind is already made up. You release the breath you've been holding. Minho's gaze softens, and although this conversation would be best discussed in private, he doesn't push you to let him in. You're still standoffish, as you should be after the shit he'd said weeks ago. But you pull the door open a bit, allowing him enough space to - at the very least - breech the threshold. He shifts forward, leaning a shoulder against the steel door frame.

"You have every right to slam this door in my face." He says, bores a hole in the damned thing as he speaks. "Hell, I'll even do it for you. I've spent so much time fighting with myself. Telling myself that every stolen glance and lingering touch was part of our arrangement. But then you started to treat this as more than just sex, and I-" 

He falters, runs a hand through his hair, pulling at the roots. Fuck, why was this so hard for him? You may have been right; He doesn't know exactly what he wants to say to you. But he's here, and you're willing to listen. 

So he's gotta try his hand. Lay all his cards on the table. 

"I'm not the guy who settles down. I don't take anyone on dates, or plan trips to de-stress. I spend more money on my cat in a year than anyone else, including myself. And yet, somehow, I've done all of that with you." Minho's eyes glow as he speaks, you swear you spot little embers aflame in gold - A sunrise you've yet to behold. His tone is low, but there's no doubt that he's bearing his heart with every word.

“That trip to Jeongdongjin… I barely remember it because I spent all my time caught up in you. It’s been that way since three months in when I teased you about moving in with me. You’ve had me wrapped around your finger since then, double-knotted for good measure. And that scares the shit out of me! Because I’ve never felt this way with anybody. Like something’s missing when they’re not around.” He shakes his head, as if he's scolding himself. "I said a lot of shit that night that I'm not proud of. Let my own walls cave in on me, and I hurt you in the process. And no amount of sorry could make up for that, I know. But I don't think I could live with myself if I saw you around this city with someone else. And I know you deserve so much more than what I've offered. I don't know how to love someone like that."

The muscle in your chest goes into overdrive as he rambles. You weren't sure what you were expecting when you saw him standing there in the hallway, but you're certain it wasn't this. For a moment, silence fills the space between you two. He sucks down a deep breath, swallows his nerves away. 

"But I want to try. With you."

Oh.

You zero in on the man, eyes deadlocked on one another as you process his words. Minho wants to try. And you want nothing more than to accept his proposal as truth. But every neuron in your brain is firing off red flag like a siren. As much as you've fallen, you've also shattered like a box of fine china sitting on the highest shelf - the height too great to salvage such a delicate parcel. The chemistry is - was there. Undeniably. But now?

Part of you wants to slam the door and forget that this conversation, this connection ever happened. The other part of you wants to give him everything. Pull him in and never let go.

Quit entertaining these fantasies!

You shake your head, eyes closing as shaky fingers press against dark lids, attempting to quell the pounding that's settled in your temples. You wish it'd quell your anxiety. Your ringing ears. You sigh, leaning into the width of the door as you let your hands fall to your sides. Minho's gaze is almost thoughtful when you look up; those hidden embers dulled, but still illuminated by the warm glow of the floor lamp in your apartment. He closes the distance by a half-step and your heart rattles in your chest. 

But you don't back away. 

You don't slam the door in his face. 

And when his bold step doesn't get him in trouble, he brings a cautious hand up. It's unlike him to be so slow like his, hovering over you as if you're a wild animal that's in need of rehabilitation and about to bolt. But you're still here, by some miracle, and you allow him into your space. Because in the moments where Minho's emotions seem to break the barrier of cool rationality he's built for himself, you wonder just how deep his feelings for you really run.

He's gonna break your heart into a million little pieces again. Could you really handle that?

The thoughts tumble until he makes contact, drawing you out of your mind and back into the moment. Warmth bleeds into warmth as his fingers press into the skin behind your ear, calloused thumb skating over the expanse of your cheek bone. You wonder what it'd be like to forget such a tender touch. Your hands find Minho's wrists, sliding lower to grip strong forearms as you rest your forehead on the center of his chest. The rhythm of his heartbeat is steady and soothing - a lullaby for your tired mind.

There's no mistaking the intimacy in these actions, no longer an exchange of rough leather and torn linen, but of pressed lavender and well-worn journals. It's comfortable. Feels like a safe haven. It drowns out every single worry in your head. Even so...

"I need time..." Your voice is a whisper, laced with an exhaustion that dominates your being.

"Alright."

"I can't just fall back into your arms because you say you want this now. That's not how this works."

You feel his voice rumble in your head; sweet like honey, as intoxicating as wine.

"We can start over."

He pulls away from you, lifting your head up to look you in the eyes. 

"Take things slow."

He nods.

"Take things slow... see where this goes."

"But if you ever chew me out like that again, I'm gone."

"Shit, baby, I'll buy you the one way ticket out of Seoul." He says it so seriously, you can't help but laugh. The sound ushers forth galaxies in raw citrine.

You allow yourself to slip into a state of warmth and comfort, your body leaning subconsciously as you bump your forehead with his. Minho's hand slips from your cheek, his fingers splaying at the back of your neck to pull you in until your lips meet. A duet of profound sighs tame rabid nerves. It's slow and delicate, technicolour - Everything you don't expect from him, yet everything you need from him. He takes up your space like he belongs there. 

Maybe he does.

You peel back with a soft smile etching your face. When you press yourself further against his chest, he wraps his arms around you in a gentle embrace, fingers running the span of your back in soothing motions. If this is what taking things slow feels like, then it might be the best thing that's ever happened to you.

"It's getting late." He states, catching the time on the wall clock a little ways from the door - 11:03 PM -and you hum, acknowledging the fact even as you stifle a yawn into his jacket. "I should go."

You crane your neck to catch his gaze.

"Stay for tonight?"

You take in the look of shock on his face because, obviously, he doesn't expect you to ask. But he's already here, basking in your beauty and joy and all the things he's missed while he's been distant. It's written all over his face. And if you're honest, the close proximity and your exhaustion are both catching up to you.

Before you can explain yourself further, Minho's hand finds yours, lacing your fingers together and pulling you into the apartment. The door finally shuts.

Minho doesn't quite know how he'll do it, but as long as he's got this chance, he'll gladly spend the rest of his life making it up to you. 

Psst!! If you made it this far, thank you for taking the time to read my work 💕 I appreciate you!

#stray kids #skz #lee know #stray kids x reader #skz x you #lee minho x reader #skz x reader #lee know x reader #minho x reader #skz lee know #lee know imagines #skz minho #gn reader #x gender neutral reader #quokkawritings🌻

[noisyquokka]

Script Change

PAIRING - Jisung x F!Reader

SYNOPSIS - After an off the cuff kiss leaves you anxious and confused, you decide to confront your feelings and your best friend.

WORDCOUNT - 3.6k

WARNINGS - Wholesome fluff, Best Friend!Jisung, Jisung interacting with a child, subtle teasing, your basic crush anxieties, reader's on babysitting duty (for those who aren't into kids, I gotchu)

A/N - So this is part two of a fic that should've been posted four years ago on Han's birthday, but hey! There's no time like the present, right? Happy Han day!!🎉

Part One (I recommend reading, as some of this won't make much sense otherwise)

"Higher! Higher!" Your little cousin squeals, kicking her little legs back and forth on the swing.

You and Jisung had decided on taking her to the park after stopping for a bite to eat, settling on dinosaur nuggets at her favorite restaurant. You'd sat there mute the entire time, watching your best friend and your cousin interact amongst each other. No thanks to your brain having been thrown into a whirlwind not an hour prior.

Even now, you sit on a swing a few feet away, watching Jisung push the small child higher. You know you should be focused on spending time with the two people in front of you, but your mind has been focused on Jisung's lips.

Jisung had kissed you. And not just some little smooch on the cheek like he normally would. Always the jokester, but no. He had full-on kissed you. Your sneakers dig into the mulch under your feet, swinging slightly as your mind buzzes. His actions have left you scratching your head.

"Higher!!!"

"If you go any higher, you're gonna fly to the moon!" Jisung exclaims, ignoring his own warning as he bends to the little girl's demands. Her head sweeps back with a giggle, the wind playing with tangled pigtails as she kicks her feet forward.

"Maybe I wanna go there! Or even Mars," She sticks her tongue out in thought, "Or Saturn!"

Jisung gasps dramatically, hopping on the swing beside hers.

"Are you going on a secret space mission? Are there, perhaps, some evil aliens up there who need a firm butt-kicking!?" He asks, following up with an animated wag of his fist. More giggles resound through the empty park and Jisung beams with pride at the giddy child. He always hopes for a giggle, doesn't he?

"Nooo! I don' know," She giggles again, a toothy grin taking over chunky cheeks. "My teacher says Saturn has lots of moons!"

"Really? Just how many moons does Saturn have, Sweet Pea?"

You chuckle to yourself, listening in on the banter as she ponders her answer. Brown eyes find yours for a moment and you swear your heart is imploding in your chest at the soft smile he blesses you with.

"Uhhhh, Saturn has tons and tons of moons." A tiny finger gestures to the clear sky above, faint masses of hydrogen and helium dancing in a gravitational choreography that twinkles through the atmosphere. "Like as many stars as there are up there!"

Jisung scoffs, shaking his head in disbelief.

"No way, Little Astronomer!"

"Yes way!! It's the truth, Sung Sung! You can search it on the computer and everything!" She's sticking her nose up in a know-it-all fashion, losing momentum from all the animated movement she's been pulling on her swing. She pumps her legs again, trying to get back in a fluid back and forth motion.

Jisung chuckles, sneaking behind the six-year-old to swiftly lift her off the swing. She squeals at his prodding fingers, grabbing at the collar of his T-shirt when he settles her on his hip. You can't help the smile on your lips, watching the two of them poke and prod at each other until your cousin is shying away with timid little giggles. But when Jisung makes his way towards you, her face quickly falls.

"We aren't leaving yet, are we?" She asks, her bottom lip jutting out. Jisung mirrors her, booping the tip of her nose with a finger.

"Hey, turn that frown upside down! We've still got a movie to watch at home." He reminds her. Another gentle poke to her cheek. And now she's poking his cheeks with that same gentle nature and Jisung is giving her the biggest grin he possibly could and you're pretty sure you're going into cardiac arrest.

"What do ya say, Sweet Pea?"

Little hands find the chain around his neck as he talks, fiddling with the links like she always does.

"Okay... can we watch The Princess and the Frog?"

"We can watch whatever you want." He replies, eye sparkling as he holds her gaze. You watch her face light up, looking between you and Jisung with unbridled excitement. She nods and giggles, and you're just about to pull yourself up from the swing when a hand extends to you.

"Your Highness..." He bows as far forward as is possible with a clingy six-year-old on his hip, a small quirk on his lips. Your gaze lingers far too long there and you try to pull off an eye roll and exasperated mannerisms, taking his hand in yours.

"It's Your Cowness, thank you very much!" You mutter as he pulls you to your feet.

"Bovine-ness, if we're being technical."

"Really?"

"Really."

You're lucky it's dark out, because the blood is probably rushing to your cheeks.

"Look, Sung Sung!" A tiny hand pulls at Jisung's shirt, quickly getting his attention. "The swan is in the sky!"

"Ah, you're right, Peanut!" His focus wanes, looking to where she's pointing. "What's the swan's name again? I forget."

"Cygnus!" She shouts. With a missing front tooth, it comes out a little more like Cygmus, but you give her an E for effort.

Indeed, Cygnus soars high above your suburban town, most stars too faint to see with the nearby lights of the city. But you can easily make out most of the familiar constellations up there through all the light pollution.

"Ah, you really are an astronomer!" He says, fingers coming up to scratch the underside of her chin. You're thankful for those magical giggles right now, helping to shake off your nerves from a moment ago.

It's just Jisung being Jisung, you remind yourself as the three of you begin the walk back home. The weight of a tiny head rests on Jisung's shoulders, grumbles coming out here and there as she attempts to get comfortable in his arms. He chuckles at her comical little noises, shifting her so she's cradled in his arms.

"That better?" He asks, grinning as she tilts her head back into the crook of his elbow. The perfect stargazing position. She nods, continuing her search with a gummy grin. Jisung does his best not to sway her as he walks, keeping his arms steady as she keeps those brown eyes skyward. Hercules slaying the magnificent beast, Draco. Aquila flying closely to the swan she'd first identified. Ophiuchus; the snake man, as she labels him. She points out what she knows

But before you know it, those brown eyes have closed and soft breaths have replaced that mousey voice.

And then it was you and him.

Jisung adjusts the child in his hold, being careful not to wake her. That smile still sits itself on his pretty face when he glances over to you and you press your lips together, offering him a lopsided grin before you look away.

How many times had he smiled like that tonight?

And at you, no less. It felt like Jisung had toned down on his usual joking since you had left the house a few hours prior. His interactions hadn't changed with your little cousin though - always the playful, accommodating King in her eyes. You, however?

Since you'd left the house, you took note of the glances he had spared you. Many. Often. Even as he did his best to look casual about it, he had failed. When you would catch his gaze mid-admiration, he would shoot you a smile so soft and genuine, you were certain you could hear the choir of angels above singing. And then there's the paying for dinner. He was adamant about it, even as you insisted that you would foot the bill this time. It wasn't out of character for him. Jisung was always bringing over snacks or picking up takeout before he'd see you, and you'd often try to pay him back your half, at the very least. Didn't work most times, but tonight wasn't the usual.

Was he just being the usual gentleman he always is, or was it that ki-

"You've been pretty quiet."

Jisung's voice is soft, but he still manages to make you jump out of your skin. You turn your head toward him, eyes wide.

"Me?"

"Unless there's a ghost here with us... yes, you." His little quip manifests a teasing grin and you inwardly groan. That smile... Stop that!

"Just tired," You reply, shaking your head. "Babysitting royalty takes a lot out of me."

Jisung chuckles, adjusting the sleeping princess in his embrace with all the care in the world.

"That smile is worth it, though." He admits.

Even in sleep, the little tyke has a soft curl to her lips, her head resting against his shoulder. Your shoe scuffs lightly against the sidewalk, too enamored by the smile that's taken over your best friend's face.

Your smile is worth it!

"You must be pretty comfortable." You murmur, and his brown eyes dart up to yours. The child's head falls slightly from his movements and he curses under his breath, readjusting himself so her head finds purchase in the junction of his neck. He's so careful with her, bringing a hand up to cradle her head as you both walk the dimly-lit street. You can't stop your heart from fluttering at the scene. The grin on his face says it all; she has him wrapped around her little finger.

"My arm would beg to differ." He jokes, but he makes no more adjustments.

"I can take her."

"No, no." He promptly rejects the offer, gesturing down the street. "We're almost there. I wouldn't wanna wake her on accident."

You chuckle at his response.

Yep... wrapped tight.

You fall into another silence as you round the corner of your street. It's comfortable, really - Jisung keeping himself occupied with the comfort of the sleeping child, and you sneaking glances every so often. The wind picks up, wisping strands of hair into your line of sight as you walk. You glance over again, eyes going wide at the deep browns that are already staring back. It instantaneous the way your head snaps forward, eyes darting to anywhere else as you clear your throat. You feel your heart stall in it's usual function. Jisung's laugh perks your ears, watching you try so hard to look nonchalant.

"What...?" He asks, his head slowly craning towards you. His voice is soft as ever when he speaks, even your heartbeat quiets in your ears, listening graciously to the way he articulates his words. Dark eyes flicker between your face and your body language. Studying your mannerisms. Those lips quirk into a teasing grin, and-

Oh. When did your gaze fall on his again?! How long have you been staring? Why are you still staring? You bring a hand up to scratch the back of your head.

"Nothing!" You say, perhaps a little too loudly. You can feel yourself flush slightly, tucking your hands into the fabric of your jacket pocket. He snickers at your response, glancing down at the little girl still sound asleep in his arms. Then, he returns his attention to you.

You're speed-walking now, more than a few steps ahead of him as you get closer to your house. His expression is one of amused curiosity. Your cousin stirs in her sleep, shifting until the crown of her skull rests just under his chin. His arms tighten around her, and she nuzzles into his shirt.

"Sure looks like nothing, hm." He mumbles to the child, sighing as he picks up his pace.

Your cheeks burn as you make it up to the front door, slotting the key in the lock with all the focus in the world. The door swings open and Jisung follows you inside, slipping his shoes off at the door before doing the same for the child on his hip. Before you can even speak, he's making a beeline for the hall with your little cousin still cradled in his arms. You follow behind him as he shoulders the door to your bedroom open, pulling the sheets back on the bed. There's a tiny whine that escapes her throat, and Jisung furrows a brow.

"Come on, Peanut." He whispers, fingers gently grasping at the tiny hand clinging to his shirt. You can't keep your eyes off Jisung as he coddles the grumpy little tyke. It only causes her to bury herself further into his chest, eyes shut tight and face scrunched up in displeasure. You lean against the door frame with raised brows, watching as he figures out how to put her to bed with little issue.

It takes a moment of thought - you see him calculating a plan behind those deep browns as he stands there with her in his arms - before he tilts his head down. You can't make out the soft murmur of words that are shared, but your heart flutters as the harsh lines that wrinkle her face soften. Tiny fingers release their grip on the fabric, and Jisung turns back toward the bed, cradling her head until it hits the pillows below. She slowly but surely relaxes into the comfort of your bed, long lashes fluttering as the duvet is brought up to her chin.

When Jisung turns back toward you, he pauses at the look of admiration you're giving him. It's his turn to clear his throat, glancing back at your cousin and running a hand through his hair. You gesture toward the door when he looks back at you, leaving the lamp on the nightstand on as you step out. He follows you, leaving the door ajar in case the lurking monsters disturb sweet dreams.

"You still wanna watch that movie?" He asks, entering the kitchen. "Or- a movie?"

"Movie... yeah, right!" You nod. "Uhh, you wanna pick it and I can get some snacks? Popcorn?"

"Sure, yep."

You can practically feel your heart jumping in your throat, but you clap your hands and nod again as Jisung makes his way toward the living room. Once he's out of sight, you sag against the kitchen counter, releasing the breath you didn't know you were holding.

It's getting harder and harder to avoid the elephant in the room. The massive best-friend-kissed-me-shaped elephant that's just trampling through the house, mocking you. You want to ask him about it, have wanted to all day now. The words are locked and loaded on the tip of your tongue.

But right now?

You take another deep breath, letting off the white-knuckle grip on the edge of the counter.

"Snacks... we're looking for snacks." You mutter to yourself, pushing off the countertop and turning toward the cupboards in search of popcorn and anything else to munch on.

—

You don't want to overanalyze Jisung's choice in movie, but the rom-com currently playing was not what you'd expected. That elephant in the room? Sitting it's big ol' elephant ass on top of you as you watch the main character confess to their crush. You're actively suffocating into the couch cushions.

You blink, shifting your head just enough to side-eye your best friend. Jisung's sitting cross-legged in his usual spot, popping bits of popcorn into his mouth. He seems so unfazed by the scene. In fact, he's seemingly leaning towards the screen as if it's the best thing he's ever watched. Got a smile plastered on his face to boot. It's enough to make your heart beat out of your chest.

Now you're wishing you would've said something to him earlier about the kiss, if only for the sake of your sanity. You've related to almost every single instance of pining in this fucking movie, sitting here with your internal monologue while stuffing your mouth full of microwave popcorn. You're fairly certain that you've almost cracked a molar from the few kernels that didn't fully pop, too busy eating your stress away to pick them out of the fistfuls of crumbling corn.

It takes everything in you to sit there and wipe your mind clean of earlier events as you stuff another handful into your mouth, watching the big kiss scene unfold on the screen. The movie's been going for an hour now and based off of everything happening, you can only pray it'll end soon.

Don't think about it. Don't think about it. Don't-

He's watching you. You can practically feel those eyes boring a hole into the side of your skull, searching through your mind's file folders until they can uncover the answer they seek. You spare a glance his way, melting into warm cacao and an even warmer smile. Neither of you break eye contact as the credits roll, your heart actively attempting to burst from your chest cavity.

You have to say something.

"You know, this movie kinda sucked."

You nearly choke on the leftover popcorn in your mouth, bringing a hand up to butter-tainted lips as you laugh through the pain.

"You- you chose the movie, Ji."

"I did, didn't I..." The corner of his eyes crinkle as he scrunches his nose in amusement, shrugging his shoulders. It's silent now, the credits skipped and the main menu of the chosen streaming service idling on the screen.

"So, uh, there's something I'd like to talk to you about…" You find the words falling out faster than you expected, and you internally curse. Your heart skips beats as Jisung sits back against the cushions, his face illuminated by the light of the TV screen. He nods, taking an inward breath.

"The kiss."

"You knew?"

He huffs a breath of laughter, turning his head.

"Shall I remind you of the way you've been acting around me all night?"

Your drink is sweating probably about as much as you are, fingers slipping lightly on the glass as you bring it to your lips. You don't know how to respond to that. There's obviously no way around it; you've been acting like a teenage girl fawning over their crush all day. Ever since that kiss...

You attempt an air of casualty, setting your drink back on the coffee table, but it's difficult when he's got his eyes trained on you so intently. You shift your weight on the cushion, although the pins and needles prickling up your right leg is a welcome distraction. You swallow hard, fingers clenching around the bowl in your lap. Oh god. Think! Think!

"I, uh..." A nervous chuckle escapes your lungs, your face heating the longer you scramble for an answer. "That's beside the point-"

"I think it's right on point." Jisung cocks a brow ever so slightly, and it's enough to make your face burn. That sparkle in his irises tells you everything. He's teasing you.

"You know what I'm gonna ask, Jisung." You don't shift your gaze from his, reading the expression that flickers over his face.

"It wasn't in the script, if I'm honest." He admits, brows knitting together as he replays the moment in his head. "Neither was the impromptu pillow fight, or falling off the couch... which is a safety hazard, by the way! Your parents really need a lower one ya know, I almost-"

"Jisung."

"Right, sorry." He's getting flustered now, reaching for the nape of his neck with twitching fingers. Now you're wondering if he's stalling for the sake of your feelings. That's it, isn't it? He just doesn't feel that way about you? It was the heat of the moment? You can feel the change in trajectory of your relationship with him the longer you stare. The silence is excruciating. You can't stand it anymore. You let out a breath, about to tell him to just forget it when he interrupts you.

"I just- I... wanted to-"

He takes a moment to collect his thoughts, rubbing at the bridge of his nose with a soft groan.

"The kiss... that wasn't planned, but I have wanted to."

"To?" You sound dense as fuck, but you aren't getting your hopes up until you hear a full coherent sentence.

"I want us to be..." Another pause, his words trailing off as his eyes flicker to your lips. You mirror him, catching the bob of his throat as he swallows. "I want this. You. I know this is all so unexpected, but I've wanted to take you out on a proper date for forever and you looked absolutely gorgeous today. I definitely wasn't expecting you to overpower me like you did. That was hot. Like really hot, and then when I pulled you closer your eyes just- mmph!"

Jisung's words get washed away, your lips like some kind of fucked up siren's song that lures him into calm waters. It's heaven to feel him relax into your kiss, to feel him lean in after a moment and pull you closer to him. His hand finds your jaw, brows creasing as he focuses on the warmth of your mouth and the feeling of your fingers tangled in his hair.

You can't help the giddy laugh that escapes your throat, pulling away even as Jisung follows your lips. His confession has your whole body vibrating down to the bone.

"Have I mentioned you're a very good kisser?" Jisung asks, his eyes flitting down to your lips like he wants to experience it all over again. Your eyes catch the illumination from the TV, twinkling as you bite your lip.

"Could say the same about you, Your Highness." You reply with a grin. He chuckles at that, reeling back into the couch.

"You know the Little Peanut is gonna want a script change." He mutters, and you climb into his lap with an accusatory stare.

"You seem to be fine with changing the script, Mister 'Magical cows are cursed'."

"Hey, I had to come up with something on the fly, alright!" His hand finds your wrist, pulling you down just like he'd done hours ago; face to face, the tip of his nose brushing against yours teasingly. His body heat bleeds into yours as he wraps the other arm around your shoulders. "You didn't object. Seemed like you enjoyed the idea of being my Queen."

"A little hard to object to something I've been thinking about for a long time." There's no point in hiding it anymore, you just kissed your best friend dumb in the midst of his confession. Jisung tilts his head and hums, his hand following the curve of your back.

"I guess I should ask if you'd want to go out then? This weekend?"

You can't help the smile that takes over your face. He wants this just as much as you do.

"Took you long enough."

"It took long enough for that kiss, too." Jisung chuckles as he gazes at you with those beautiful browns, leaning back in with a grin.

"Need to catch up now, don't we?"

Psst!! If you made it this far, thank you for taking the time to read my work 💕 I appreciate you!

#stray kids #skz #han jisung #stray kids x reader #skz x you #han jisung x reader #skz x reader #han jisung fluff #jisung x reader #skz han jisung #skz han #han jisung imagines #stray kids fluff #f!reader #x f!reader #quokkawritings🌻

[noisyquokka]

hii i’ve just found you acc and i’m inlove with your fairy tail kisses story. i cant get out my head the thought of y/n and jisung telling her cousin they are together and her being abit like ew but also like happy cuz she’ll see ji more.

could you write like a short epilogue or something of them telling her? you don’t have to but the thought just has me crying 🥺

lots of love ❤️

Epilogue

PAIRING - Jisung x F!Reader

WORDCOUNT - 2.2k

WARNINGS - Fluff, basic cute s/o interactions, we on babysitting duty again, also kids say the craziest things 😭

A/N - My GOSH!!! You don't know how much I kicked my feet as I wrote this, thank you for the request! Fairly certain that Fairytale Kisses is my favorite fluff piece on my Masterlist so it was lovely to add a little extra to it! I hope you enjoy, Darling! 💛

Part 1 || Part 2

Your ears perk at the sound of the front door swinging shut, little squeals accompanying the dull pitter-patter of bare feet. The shadow that whizzes past the kitchen is tiny, a flash of cerulean blue fabric and dark, bouncing braids. She doesn't even notice you, too busy scouting out someone else.

"Honey, please no running in the house!" It's your Aunt's voice; that gentle motherly tone that borders on a warning. You offer up a smile when she appears in the hall, the woman sighing as she places multiple bags on the counter. "I come bearing gifts."

Jisung peeks his head up from behind the counter, eyes darting to the Tupperware tins that she pulls from one bag. Dark brows arch in a knowing question and your Aunt chuckles.

"Yes, they're your favourite cookies, Jisung. Take your pick."

"Sung Sung?!" That mousey voice. Little feet scampering back toward the kitchen.

He's quick about it, slipping behind your spot at the counter, resting a hand at the small of your back. Reaching for a smaller tin of freshly backed cookies, he leans in and presses a quick kiss to your cheek when you spare a glance over your shoulder to him. And just like that, he's darting for cover again. And you're standing there shaking your head, clamping your hands over your burning cheeks as your Aunt chuckles at the antics between you and your boyfriend.

The scampering halts at the doorway to the kitchen, doe eyes settling on you with a newfound determination. You raise your brows, bringing a finger to tap at your chin as you glance toward the opposite end of the counter. She must've picked up on it, because little feet are heard pattering over the runners in the kitchen until…

"Sung Sung!!"

She lunges for him, tiny arms wrapping around his neck. You hear a grunt, the cookie tin sliding onto the counter as the man has no option but to embrace the little girl that clings to him like a koala. You chuckle at the sight of his finger tips gripping the edge of the counter, an attempt to keep himself upright. His free arm wraps around her, pulling her up and away from the floor with ease.

"You found me!?" He sounds surprised, the words muffled behind a whole cookie between his teeth. But you know he saw your not-so-subtle gesture that tipped her off to his location. Your cousin continues her clinging, her head tucked under the crook of his neck. She nuzzles her face into his t-shirt, soft sounds of contentment leaving her little body.

"I missed you," She mumbles quietly, as if just admitting such a thing turns her into a shy bean. Jisung chuckles, his hands moving to place her on one of the nearby stools.

"I missed you, too! How's my little Princess been?" He's gentle when he smooths out the tulle of her dress, the fabric having rode up on her legs as she raced through the house and clambered all over her favorite person.

Your Aunt catches your attention with a soft tap of the shoulder, and you turn your head.

"I'll be back around eight. Text me if you need anything." She says. You nod, watching as she turns to her daughter with a mock seriousness in her eyes. "Be good for your cousin and Jisung!"

All the woman gets is a fit of giggles and a coy nod.

It's been a few weeks since the kiss between you and Jisung. Since you gave in and both of you confessed in your own bumbling ways. After that, you agreed to a date, although the details didn't matter much to you. Just the idea of going out on a date was enough to keep you content. Jisung, however, planned everything to a T. You had scoffed at the sight of the empty arcade, rented out for the full day so the two of you could enjoy whatever games you wanted without interruption. Safe to say, he had more than outdone himself. The only thing you had yet to cross off your list was telling your little cousin the news.

Your eyes settle on the bundle of affection that has buried herself into Ji's side. The child is nuzzling into his torso, mussing her braids with not a care in the world. Jisung looks down at her with a grin, lightly patting her head before she springs off the stool and races around the counter to get to you. Her arms wrap around your legs as she looks up with curious eyes.

"I missed you!" She giggles, squeezing tighter as if she can bleed her love and affection into you through her sheer belief. You chock it up to some kind of kid magic because you swear her antics only make you smile broader. You lean down, balancing on the balls of your feet as you hook your hands under her arms.

"My goodness, you're getting so big!" You huff, placing her on the edge of the counter. "I won't be able to pick you up if you keep growing like this."

"King Sung Sung is strong! He can pick me up!" She exclaims, brown eyes darting over her shoulder. Jisung chuckles, biting into the cookie he'd pulled from the tin.

"Speaking of, the king needs his crown, doesn't he?" You ask, patting the out of place strands on her head. She nods eagerly, kicking her feet against the cabinet below. "Why don't you go get it for him. You remember where you put it, don't you?"

Another eager nod. You grin, slipping her off the counter top and watching as her little legs carry her off towards the hall once more.

"You're so good with her." You'd heard the footsteps to your right a moment prior, anticipating the warm hand that comes to rest on your hip. The corners of your mouth quirk up, and you turn around to face your boyfriend.

"That's humble coming from you. She ran through the entire house in search of you. Not me." Jisung rolls his eyes, waving away your words as he takes another bite of his cookie.

"Obviously! I'm the fun, humble, strong King Sung Sung!" He wisps his hair back like one of those movie characters, shooting you a smug grin.

"Oh my god, never do that again." You laugh, softly smacking the side of his face. That earns you a laugh as well, hands following the swell of your hips upward as he leans in.

"So we should probably tell her about us at some point, huh."

You bite at your bottom lip, nodding. It's something you've been thinking about a lot, even as you know she'll be over the moon to have Jisung around more often than he was before. But at the same time, you don't know how to tell her. For some reason, this seems more intimidating than the idea of meeting the parents (if you hadn't already known them for years) or even telling your friends.

"Hey," Jisung's brows furrow, noting that look in your eyes. He's known you far too long to not know where your head is. "She's smart, she loves you, and she loves me-" He chuckles into your hair, your forehead connecting with his chest. Ever the jokester! "I love you, and I know you're worried, but I don't think she's gonna care too much when she's got more time with the both of us." Warm hands find your jaw, pulling your face back up so he can capture your lips with his. It's delicate and sweet, not only from the cookie he'd bitten into. It eases your racing mind, the curve of your back leaning into the counter.

"I got it!"

You jump at the sound of that mousey voice, the palms of your hands shoving at a sturdy chest. You're quick, and yet, not quick enough.

Your cousin stands in the doorway, one of her costume tiaras adorning her head. Jisung's crown is grasped carefully between her fingers, those orange silk flower petals fluttering with every movement of her arm. You pivot on the balls of your feet, jutting a hip into the counter's edge as you cross your arms, bringing a hand up to your mouth. The little girl sways from her mad dash through the house, her cheeks pink from exertion.

"There you are, Muffin!" You clear your throat, sparing Jisung a glance. He's pressing his lips together, a hand at the base of his neck as he, too, leans against the opposite counter. The look on his face is both smug and embarrassed.

When you look back to the child standing in the doorway, it seems that she's already connecting dots. Doe eyes flit between the two of you, narrowed and analyzing until her nose is scrunching like that day three weeks ago.

"Hey~" She drawls out the word, tone going higher, it's almost accusatory. She bounces on her tip toes as she twirls in the doorway, pointing the crown in her hand at the two of you, her eyes wide with excitement.

Jisung's lips quirk as he watches her, taking note of her mannerisms. She's a little too giddy. Much more than usual. His eyes narrow as he crosses his arms over his chest.

"Someone's been sneaking…"

Your brows furrow, but as you glance between the two, you begin to see the signs. Her feet shuffling as she now looks at the ground, that flush on her cheeks turning pinker. The dead giveaway for you is the exaggerated shrug she gives Jisung, suddenly too shy to answer either of you. The little stinker was right outside the hall for who knows how long.

Jisung is the first to move, taking the few long strides to the doorway only to kneel down so he was eye level with the child. She keeps her gaze on her wiggling toes, the tiara atop her head sliding forward. He tilts his head to the side, catching her gaze before she turns away with a pout.

"C'mon, Peanut. Why don't you tell us what you heard." He offers, attempting to gently coax her back into a playful headspace. He brings his hands up to his cheeks, rests his elbows on his knees. And when she looks up, that shy gummy smile returns.

"You kissed the magical moo cow again." She blurts, promptly covering her mouth with a squeak. Those brown eyes are wide, almost animated as she stares between the two of you. Jisung turns his head to lock eyes with you, trying to maintain his composure. That's obviously not what either of you were expecting.

"I did." He replies, eyebrows arching as he clears his throat. "Do you remember why?"

She blinks, brows furrowing as she thinks back through your little fantasy playtime sessions.

"To break the curse?"

"That's right, Sweet Pea." Jisung adjusts the tiara on her head, reaching down for the handmade crown in her grip as she glances up at him with stars in her eyes. He settles the crown atop his head, the woven branches fitting perfectly as he picks her up with a grunt.

"Does that mean you love each other?" She asks, fiddling with the tulle of her dress. You can't help but grin at the way she's going about this, almost like she's interviewing you for a school presentation. Jisung turns to you with the softest smile, and you note something akin to relief swimming behind glowing irises.

"Yeah... yeah, I love your cousin a lot." He murmurs, and there goes your heart fluttering again. Absolutely hammering against your chest. He's back over to you in a few careful strides, giving you a peck on the cheek. The gesture earns a squeal from the little girl on his hip, her cheeks a light pink.

"Are you gonna get married?"

"Alright," You clap your hands together, trying to remember which drawer holds the utensils as the giggles resume. "why don't we dig in to some of these sweets and watch a movie, hm?" You feel your face burning from the question, which is quite innocent coming from a child. But oh boy, does it throw you for a loop. Jisung's clearly amused by it, his brown eyes watching you search through the drawers until you give up and settle on just cookies. You reach for the Tupperware containers on the counter, filling a small plate for your cousin as Jisung puts her back down. He hands her the plate and she runs off toward the living room, leaving the two of you.

"I've gotta hand it to her, that was bold."

"Ya think?" Fingers find your nose bridge as you listen to the sound of your boyfriend's jovial laughter. Your ears perk at the sound of a drawer opening, silverware clinking together with the help of deft fingers. Jisung settles against the counter beside you, holding a fork up between the two of you as you bring your gaze up. You mutter a thanks, taking it from him and reaching for the cheesecake slices in one of the containers. You're just about to ask him if he wants some when he speaks first.

"I kinda like the idea though…"

You pause in your actions, fork dangling from between your fingers as you attempt to comprehend what he just said. Kinda like the idea!? You huff in disbelief, wondering where this newfound confidence has come from. Perhaps your little cousin's bold remarks have rubbed off. But you can't even ask him because the pitter-patter of feet closes in on the kitchen.

"Sung Sung, come get the movie ready!" She says, and no one is allowed to object when the six-year-old is already pulling him by the arm. Little hands like a tiny vise around his wrist. 

Psst!! If you made it this far, thank you for taking the time to read my work 💕 I appreciate you!

#stray kids #skz #han jisung #stray kids x reader #skz x you #han jisung x reader #han jisung fluff #skz x reader #jisung x reader #skz han jisung #skz han #han jisung imagines #stray kids fluff #f!reader #x f!reader #quokkawritings🌻

[noisyquokka]

Lights Out

PAIRING - Changmin x GN!Reader

SYNOPSIS - Changmin finds out you're a bit of a scaredy-cat and starts pranking you. Little does he know, you have a few of your own tricks up your sleeve.

WORDCOUNT - 1.7k

WARNINGS - Humor, Roommate!Changmin, some cursing, mentions of rodents (although they're fake), this is literally just two roommates testing each other, very sibling coded

A/N - Short n' sweet... also a little silly 🤠 just a funny lil thought I had!

"Fucking hell- Changmin!!"

Footsteps can be heard from down the hall, each one taken with purpose as Changmin counted down to the very last second that his bedroom door would swing open. The hinges protest to your intrusion like they always do, your shadow shifting away from the doorframe. He side-eyes you from his spot on his bed, quick reflexes catching the giant rat that he'd planted in your bedroom hours ago.

"Woah, that's one big rodent!" He feigns horror, patting the rubber rodent's stomach dramatically. Changmin should be a little worried by the daggers you're shooting at him, but he can't be bothered. Even when you grab for a pillow from his bed.

"Quit hiding shit in my room!!" Each word is followed by one hefty wallop. He leans away, bringing a hand up to shield the brunt of them. Still, he continues to tease.

"You found this in your room?!" He asks, wide-eyes flitting between you and the rat. "I told you to clean, didn't I? Rats love junk food!"

"I'm gonna kill you, Ji Changmin." You mutter, and for a moment, Changmin feels a chill run up his spine. You had muttered those words a little too calmly. But he rolls his eyes and waves you off, focusing back on the video game he was playing prior to you barging in.

"At least go and clean your room first. I have a game to beat."

He runs a hand through his tousled hair, grabs the controller and unpauses the game. You groan, throwing the pillow at his head and rushing out of the room. 

For the past months, you've had to deal with this. You'd been evicted from your apartment due to noise complaints from older neighbors and there were no other affordable apartments nearby. Anxiety had reared it's ugly head at the idea that you may be stuck couch surfing for a while, or worse. So when your best friend, Chanhee, had mentioned Changmin's extra bedroom, you thought you'd heard angels singing. After all, you'd met Changmin a few times and the two of you got on pretty well.

What you hadn't known about was his little obsession for horror. All it took was one conversation about how much you disliked scary movies and you knew you screwed up. It was a week after you moved in that Changmin planted the first prank; a whole grudge girl in the shower. You hadn't noticed it until you peeled the shower curtain back, greeted by a mop of black hair and pale white complexion. To say you had been surprised would be the understatement of the century. You had yelped so loudly, that your neighbors checked in to make sure everything was alright. Answering the door with a towel on was embarrassing enough without giving them the reason for your shrieks. To top it all off, he wasn't even home when it all went down. That didn't stop you from chewing him out over text.

And so, days turned to weeks, weeks turned to months, each prank getting less and less tame. And you slowly grew restless over the whole fiasco. Sure, it was funny at first. Now it was getting old.

You flopped down on your bed, face down into the pillow. Disgruntled and exhausted. In reality, Changmin was a great roommate. He was never late on rent, cleaned up after himself, cooked on the nights you didn't eat out, and never complained about the friends you had over. He was also a pretty good listener when you needed a shoulder to lean on. The only complaint you were allowed at this point was the constant attempts to scare you. And with Halloween around the corner, you were sure he was concocting something crazier. Most of his pranks had been much too tame when it came to a horror fan. You weren't sure if that was just Changmin being nice enough to keep them that way, or if he was building up for something. Either way, you weren't gonna sit idly by and allow him another chance to scare you.

You roll onto your back, eyes closed as you take a deep breath.

"You want war, Ji Changmin?"

Your gaze settles on the ceiling above, daggers in the drywall.

"I'll give you war."

—

The apartment door shuts with a thud as Changmin slips his shoes off at the door. The bags hang off his arms in a swath, socked feet thumping against the hall floor as he makes his way into the kitchen. The TV in the living room hums the score of a familiar movie, and Changmin turns his head to see you curled up on the sofa. His eyes flit to the TV screen.

"How many times can one person rewatch Piranha in a year?"

"You're cute. I could watch this once a day for the rest of the year, better watch yourself." You quip, glancing over the back of the sofa with a teasing glint in your eye.

The man scoffs, but a quirk of a smirk finds his lips as he sets the bags on the counter.

"Or you could help with putting all this away while I start on dinner..." He says. You roll your eyes but you get up anyway, pausing the movie. "I thought you didn't like horror."

"I don't." You reply, glancing at him with an arched brow. Brown eyes watch as you round the sofa, deft fingers reaching for one of the shopping bags sitting on the counter. 

"You're aware that's a horror movie, right?" He asks, his lips tilting in a sly grin as he begins pulling the ingredients for tonight's dinner from a bag. 

"But it's pretty stupid more than scary." 

"Ah yes, the idea of piranhas eating me alive isn't terrifying at all!" He rolled his eyes, turning to the cutting board on the opposite counter. You mirror his reaction with a muttered, "shut it" that has both of you biting back smiles. The unpacking begins.

You're fairly quick, thanks to Changmin's bagging abilities. Everything is always organized by where they go in the kitchen; pantry items, refrigerated items, frozen items... it makes your job easier. By the time you're finished, the apartment is beginning to smell like a home-cooked meal. The aroma of savory spices fill your nostrils. Your stomach groans, and you glance over to the cutting board where Changmin is busy slicing up vegetables.

"Everything's packed away." You tell him, grabbing a drink from the fridge.

"Thanks. Dinner should be ready in a few."

He's so focused on slicing the carrots he'd bought, but he doesn't miss your presence to his left. Swift fingers that snag a freshly-sliced carrot to the side of the cutting board. He looks over, his eyes flitting to your shoulders as you slink back toward the living room sofa. Back to your pretty stupid horror movie.

It isn't longer than thirty minutes that Changmin's sitting down beside you with two rice bowls in his hands. He slides the bowls onto the table, settling into the cushions with a heavy sigh. You thank him and dig in, watching as the credits roll on the current episode. He takes a bite, brown eyes shifting to you.

"Think we could watch a horror movie or something?"

"Respectfully, Changmin, you watch horror movies all year long." You mumble, swallowing the food in your mouth. "Plus, this is a horror movie. You said so, yourself."

"Respectfully, you've watched this movie like forty times since you moved in two months ago."

You stare him down for a long moment, eyes narrowed.

"Touché..." You huff, reaching for the remote. "Which movie?"

"Train to Busan?"

"Classic..."

"Hey, it's a good movie!" He argues, gaze set firmly on the television screen as you search through the streaming services collection for said title.

"Yeah, I know." You say, a smirk pulling your lips. You bring another fork full of rice and veggies to your mouth, waiting for the titles to load when Changmin goes to sit up.

"I need a bathroom break, hang on."

"Mm, can you grab my phone in my room?" You ask. "It's on the charger by my nightstand."

"Yeah, yeah. I'll grab your blanket to shield your eyes, too." He mutters the last part, but it's loud enough to hear.

"Oh, har har!" You scoff, earning yourself a crooked grin from over his shoulder as he disappears down the hall.

His feet pad down the hall, fingers slipping over the bedroom door that you had left ajar. Brown eyes lock on the cellular device sitting on the surface of the side table, full battery icon on the screen. Changmin pulls the charger from the device and turns back toward the door, stopping short. Brown eyes blink.

In the darkness of the adjacent bathroom, a humanoid shadow stands in the mirror. The bathroom light clicks on, illuminating the space in a warm glow. But the shadow is gone. Changmin's brow furrows, tilting his head as he slowly approaches the door. Slender fingers reach around the doorframe for the bathroom light switch, and the flip of the switch perks his ears, shrouding the bathroom in darkness once more. The shadow reappears, flinching in the glaze of the mirror and Changmin jumps in the slightest. He flips the light on again.

"What the hell-"

The light above the mirror flickers until it blows, and the shadow in the mirror reappears, cocking its head like a dog. Just as Changmin is about to call for you, the figure is jumping toward him.

You hear the thundering footsteps down the hallway, but you can't help yourself. The poker face isn't salvageable. When Changmin rounds the corner, he's panting and ready to tell you to call the cops. That there's an intruder in the apartment. But here you sit on the sofa, doubled over with tears in your eyes and a stomach ache brewing. It's then and there that Ji Changmin pieces everything together.

"You fucking suck, you know that." He tosses your phone at you and you scramble for it before it hits your stomach.

"What's wrong, Changmin?" You ask, wiping the tears from your eyes. "I thought you could handle the horrors and spooks."

"How'd you even do that?"

"Oh, just a little projection device above the door frame." You smirk, clearly proud of yourself. Changmin just stares, mouth open as he goes through the five stages of grief.

"I thought you were scared of shit like that?"

You shrug.

"Guess it changes you when you spend the last two months getting pranked by your roommate..."

It's safe to say you were victorious, as the pranks stopped altogether after that evening.

SPOOKTOBER MASTERLIST || Requests are open!!

#the boyz #the boyz x reader #q #ji changmin #ji changmin x reader #tbz x reader #q x reader #the boyz imagines #ji changmin scenarios #tbz q #the boyz scenarios #q imagines #the boyz drabbles #tbz drabbles #ji changmin imagines #x gender neutral reader #gn reader #quokkawritings🌻

[noisyquokka]

GIRL!! I just read your Lino fic and 🧎🏻‍♀️

I see your rqs are about to close so I was hoping maybe you could do a little sumthn sumthn angsty for my boy YangYang? I'd prefer F!reader and sumthn like you broke up and get kinda really jealous seeing him at a party with some girl and maybe you get back together maybe ya don't I'll leave that up to your creative mind? Could you also add Renjun and Xiaojun in as well, like a friend group type thing? I know this is a lot and maybe too detailed but like I NEED more angst from you plz and thank you 😩

Take care and stay hydrated 🤍

Scorched Auroras

PAIRING - YangYang x F!Reader (ft. Renjun & Xiaojun)

SYNOPSIS - You've had your regrets over the years, it's a part of the human experience. But nothing will ever compare to the pain of Him walking out of your life.

WORDCOUNT - 4.4k

WARNINGS - All around Angst, Cheating, Lies, Descriptions of Anxiety Attack, Heated Arguments, Exes to ???, Mentions of Alcohol, Reader wears feminine clothes (dress, heels, etc.), Renjun's kind of a dick in this... he's just trying to help, YangYang is also a dick but it's well-deserved || Let me know if I've missed anything!

A/N - The way I've been wanting to write more angst after that Minho fic, but I've just not gotten around to it... 😔 Thanks for the request, Darling! ngl I spent more time rereading this than I did writing this to the point that I have no idea if this is as good as I originally thought it was, (we love inconvenient writers block) so feedback would be greatly appreciated. And to all you YangYang girlies 👋🏻 I'm sorry for this.

“Huang Renjun, when I find your sorry ass…”

Your heels reverberate against the floors of the house, quick and staccato as you seek out the host of the party. This was supposed to be a chill little get together with mutual friends; all put together by Renjun. Same people. Same place. But when you walked through the front door, you’d been paralyzed.

Through the hall - between the mass of bodies that danced and conversed with each other - you had spotted Liu YangYang sitting pretty on the leather sofa, strumming away on his six-string. His eyes had found yours, and that genuine smile on his face had faded, his brows knitting as he blinked and looked away. He was surrounded by mutual friends, but you couldn’t take your eyes off the group of girls that sat like a pride of lions around him.

Funny enough, looking around the house… this party? Not so little or so mutual. In fact, you’re almost certain there’s friends of friends here, migrating up the stairs that you’ve just traversed. And the majority of them have been gathered around your ex-boyfriend for the past hour like he was the main entertainment of the evening.

So here you are, with a handful of drinks in you and your patience dwindling. You huff, sparing glances through open doors and knocking on others down the hall until you’re finally directed to Renjun’s bedroom by a random party-goer.

“Renjun!” your knuckles rap on the door, calling over the back beat of the blaring music. “I know you’re in there! Open the damn door!”

When there’s no answer, you grunt and knock louder. There’s no doubt he can hear you, your fist aching with every hit to the wood grain. The door opens, a very buzzed Renjun appearing before you.

“Fuck, where’s the fire!?”

You shoot him a glare, leaning against the door frame.

“We need to talk.”

“I’m a little busy at the moment.” He chuckles, glancing over his shoulder. It’s now that you notice the wrinkles in his clothes, his dark hair an unruly mess that he attempts to fix by carding his fingers through the tresses. The smear of red at the corner of his mouth has you narrowing your eyes. You scoff.

“Yeah… busy.”

Renjun stumbles, your hand darting out to snatch at the collar of his white tee. His protests fall on deaf ears as you pull him down the hall towards his makeshift studio. He knows he’s not going anywhere, even as he attempts to wretch your fingers from the fabric.

“You’re a real piece of work, you know that?” The heavy bass drums steady in your chest as you yank Renjun into the room. The moment your past the threshold, you let him go, slamming the door behind you.

“Hey, easy!”

“You lied to me.”

Renjun lets loose an exasperated chuckle, smoothing down the fabric of his shirt.

“I wish I knew what you were talking about.” he says, raising his brow. There’s a ghost of amusement playing on his face. He knows. It only fuels your aggravation.

“Oh, YangYang won’t be there, I promise.” You mock the words he’d told you over a FaceTime call just a few days ago. Renjun meets your glare evenly, seemingly unimpressed. He rolls his eyes when you cross your arms.

“I didn’t know he’d come. He told me he had something planned tonight.”

“Right, fucking fat chance that he’s sitting right where I’d catch him cozied up around a bonfire of girls.”

“The perfect place to play a guitar.” he quips. Your eyes narrow, following his movements as he turns toward the random clutter in the studio.

“You know how much I hate this version of Renjun.”

“Which one?” he asks, a teasing lilt in his tone. He stops at his desk, rearranging strewn journals and crumpled pages that have nearly landed in the bin beside the workspace.

“The one that plays dumb just to get out of answering me.”

“I do not-”

“You do!” you bite, feet situating themselves under your weight. You level the brunette with a pointed look.

“You’re holding out on me, I can tell. So, are you gonna spill or what?”

You watch the cogs turn behind his eyes, bringing a hand up to rub at his brow, clearly frustrated with the way this conversation is going. Brown eyes shift from the far wall, dropping the journals on the desk. He turns to you, a look crossing his face that you can’t pinpoint.

“I already told you, I had no idea he was gonna be here, okay? I asked him if he was coming and he said no.” Renjun glances to your form and the way you’re seemingly guarding the door like a well-trained hound. “I didn’t openly invite him. He showed up on his own. Any reason you’re so pissed about that?”

The question catches you off guard. Any reason you’re so pissed about that? What, with the way things ended, you certainly have no right to be. Ignoring the stabbing in your chest, you lick your lips, nails digging into your forearm. He catches the way you shift, spine straightening against the wall.

“What kind of question is that?” you ask, voice clipped.

“A valid one.” Renjun replies, leaning against his desk. There’s that casual air that he exudes as his eyes rake down your body. Observing. Your choice in outfit; that little black dress, the time you put into your hair and makeup, those stilettos. Renjun knows you don’t put that amount of time into going out unless it means something.

He clicks his tongue, blinks. Bourbon swirls with some kind of intent.

“You’re the one who broke up with him, remember? Although I’ve gotta say, if looks could kill, those girls fawning over him would be dead at his feet.”

“Watch your words, Huang.” you warn, a sharpness to your tone that leaves the guy unbothered.

“I haven’t said a thing… it’s called observing.” His voice is cool as ice, arms coming to cross over his chest.

“You’re implying.”

He laughs, snake eyes pinning him where he stands.

“I’m just stating the facts.”

“You want facts?” You close the distance between you and Renjun so quickly, he doesn’t have time to react before you’re right in his face, “You know exactly what the hell you did. You knew how much I didn’t want him here, it’s why I asked you when you invited me. You made a promise that you blew to the wind.”

Your voice is calm but tight - like a rubber band pulled to its limits. You can’t bring yourself to care about how you come across at this point. Not when there’s seven vodka shots warming your veins, clouding all rationality. Your patience is gone as you glare up at the man, watching as a dark brow twitches behind stray tresses. You’re done playing his stupid little game.

The tink of plastic against metal hits your ears as Renjun swipes a broken guitar pick off the desk into the trash bin, eyes deadlocked on the sneer that’s prying at your lips. For a second, he mulls over his actions that led up to this point. Perhaps he’s being a bit of an ass, but you’ve put off talking things out with YangYang for months. He's felt the strain it's put on the group dynamic, and he’s sick of hearing you both say everything is fine. How can two people be fine when they can’t tolerate being in the same room together? And now you come to him like he’s done you wrong, like what he’s done is unforgivable… Renjun doesn’t get it.

A knock at the door pulls him from his thoughts.

“Renjun, you in here? Some jackass is-”

The door opens, Xiaojun stopping short at the sight before him. The tense charge in the room hits him like a tidal wave, and the scowl that etches your face doesn’t give him much room to speculate.

“Uh, sorry to interrupt.” he says, looking between you two. Renjun scratches at his neck, clearing his throat.

“What is it, man?”

“There’s some guy starting shit by the pool. Thought it’d be a job for the host.”

“Yeah, I’ll be out in a minute.”

Xiaojun nods, giving you both one last fleeting glance before the door closes. When the footsteps fade into nothing but reverberating bass, Renjun slips out of the space between you and the desk.

“Where are you going?”

“To take care of damage control, as you just heard.” He turns toward the door with a finality that says this conversation is well over. If you weren’t buzzing, were in your right state of mind, you would have let him go. But the addition of alcohol only egged on your unbridled emotions.

“No, we’re not done talking.” You hiss, a hand darting out to catch his wrist. Renjun groans, and you hear your name slip off his tongue like a bad omen as he aggressively shrugs you off him.

“Stop! Just-” He turns his back to the door, looking at you like you’ve lost your mind. You look on with wide eyes as he takes a deep breath, brows twitching. “You both said that you broke up because things weren’t working out. Something about schedules and other conflicting shit…”

He shakes his head, optics flickering over your face, searching for some sort of answer as to why you're reacting this way. When your shoulders sag, he knows enough. You’re closing off, and as much as Renjun wants to be the friend that mothers you back to good spirits with a gentle hand, it seems that isn’t gonna work. The way you approached this tonight has him clutching at his last straw.

“It’s not my business but-”

“You’re right, it’s not your business-”

“But you decided to make it my business when you pulled me in here and fucking interrogated me! That alone tells me there’s more to the story than you two have let on.” You press you lips together, optics locking onto the far wall. You hear the steady release of a sigh, the rattling of the door knob under his palm. “You’ve been friends for years. You never let the simple things interfere back then.”

“Romantic relationships are different, Renjun.” You don’t need to meet those eyes to know he’s unconvinced.

“You’re impossible…” He mutters. The floorboards groan under his feet as he turns back toward the door, shoulders tight under the fabric of his shirt.

“This conversation is going nowhere. I don’t know why you dragged me in here and grilled me about the one person you don’t want to talk about, but I have a party to host.” His fingers grip the door knob and twist, amber eyes meeting yours over his shoulder.

“I don’t know what the hell is going on between you two, but you need to talk to him. Before the fallout ruins this friend group.”

The door slams shut, and you blink as Renjun’s heavy footfalls fade down the hall. His words sink in. He’s right. You sag against the wall, letting your head fall against the drywall, trying to process everything that just happened. Releasing the breath you didn’t even realize you were holding as the liquor takes another round through your hazy mind. The threat of tears infect your vision, burning even as you attempt to blink them away.

“Fuck.” you hiss, fingers coming to press against the junction of your nose bridge and the corners of your eyes until the pressure conjures rainbow static behind your lids. “Fuck. Fuck!”

You’re ready to leave. Ready to leave this party, block phone numbers and move out of the country if it means you don’t have to face the one person you regret hurting. Selfish, really, but in your current state of mind, it sounds like heaven. You’ve let this situation hang over your head for the past eight months, praying it would go away on it’s own. It’s obvious no God will let you off that easily.

God damn…

Your feet are moving before you can think any further, the studio door left ajar as your figure strides down the hall and descends the stairs. You need a glass of water to clear your head, something to prepare yourself for what’s about to happen. Optics dart to the sofa, where YangYang has been most of the evening, but he’s no longer there. The guitar leans against the wall, propped up with the help of the sofa's armrest. You bee-line for the kitchen.

The main space between the living room and kitchen has significantly dwindled to a small group of people, and you remember what Xiaojun had said about the shit starter by the pool. A simple glance to the back patio tells you that’s where everyone has gone. Empty cups and snack trays are left behind, alongside a few couples making out in the corner, and the few people conversing near the kitchen island, including Xiaojun. He greets you with a soft smile, offering you another drink that you graciously decline.

“You good?” he asks, smile fading into furrowed brows.

“Yeah, I think I’m over the alcohol for tonight.” you mutter, taking an chilled water bottle from the cooler. “Do you know where YangYang ran off to?”

“Last I saw him, he looked like he was leaving for the night.” he replies, taking another swig of his beverage. You blink, cracking the cap on the bottle and bringing it to your lips in one swift motion. Despite the amount of alcohol you’ve had in such a short amount of time, the water you take down washes away your brain fog, and you turn toward the front door with a newfound clarity.

YangYang isn’t gone. You know him well enough. And you’re ready to face him. You have to be. Because you aren’t leaving here until you set things right.

You pat Xiaojun on the shoulder as you leave, a quiet thanks uttered as you force yourself to move toward the exit, fingers latching on the handle.

The cool night air washes over your skin, but you welcome the instantaneous sobering up it provides. It’s quiet out here, as quiet as a house party can get for the chatter and music, crickets chirping in the protection of well-manicured shrubs. With a quick scan of your surroundings, you find who you’re looking for.

Liu YangYang stands at the far corner of the porch, leaning against the railing with his back to you. He’d be unnoticeable by most people, shrouded in October shadows.

You’re not most people.

It’s as if the world falls still in the time it takes you to walk over, your stomach swirling like a blender on full power. He’s by himself out here. That makes it easier, right? You let out a shaky breath, the sudden urge to bolt over the railing and disappear into the woods like a spooked fawn flooding your veins. But you don’t. You can’t.

“We need to talk.” you pipe up, clearing your throat in an attempt to hide the tremor in your voice. Black hair falls into brown eyes, a grunt of your name passing his lips at the sound of your voice. You never want to hear him say your name like that again. Like you're the scum of the earth.

“Heard you were pretty pissed about my being here.” he says. Even under his sweater, you can see how taught his back muscles are, how he's trying to hold himself back. Your eyes slip shut.

Renjun… He must have caught up with YangYang before you could make it downstairs. You let the curses slip to the back of your mind, focusing on the matter at hand. You know this doesn’t have to be hard. Just a short, civil conversation between you and your ex. With a lick of your lips, you try again.

“YangYang, I’m-”

“You know, it’s really fucking insulting to hear that.” He brings the half-full solo cup in his hand to his lips, taking the rest of his drink down in one go. Dark optics stare blankly toward the dimly lit street. “Especially when you’ve avoided me for the past eight months. When no one else knows the truth about you.”

You swallow hard at his comment, staring at the foot that he can't stop tapping against the porch.

“I don’t wanna fight with you, YangYang.” you say, taking a step toward him, “I know you don’t want to talk to me, but I need to talk to you.”

You hear the huff of a scoff, and he turns just enough to lock eyes with you from over his shoulder, pupils digging into you from the corners.

“Better eight months late than never.”

“YangYang-”

“What?” he interjects, snapping like a cornered fox, “Too busy with them to come to me sooner with your bullshit excuses?”

YangYang doesn’t need to face you to get his emotions across. You’ve never had trouble deciphering whether he was emotionally six feet under or floating on cloud nine. But now, you feel like you’re Gaia up against the raw power of Helios; a violent storm of solar particles slamming against you in his attempts to protect his heart from freezing over.

The auroras of scorched and unspoken truths. Your magnetic field is battered and bruised too significantly to sustain such a blow.

That’s on you, you know. You’d come to the realization eight months ago when you took that sledgehammer to a decade of friendship. A decade of trust that transformed into so much more. An angel of a boy that you threw away - tore his wings from his back for good measure.

You shake your head, that fire burning behind your eyes.

“You’re not being fair, here.” You whisper, and as much as you don’t want this conversation to escalate, you know there’s no stopping it. You flinch when he whips around, wild eyes boring into yours, a snarl threatening to break the crease of his lips. He points a finger at you.

“You cheated, Love! You!” The term of endearment is anything but; poison on the tongue that used to serenade you and whisper sweet nothings in your ear. He is the ferocity of a rabid dog in the form of gnashing teeth and beady eyes, panting and growling in warning when you try to console it.

“Two years together! Thirteen years of friendship and trust that you so easily struck a match to like that?! Fucking treated me like I was an afterthought in your daily schedule while we were still together! The nights you came home and lied through your teeth, telling me you were working late… that you were out with friends… Fuck, I even felt you pulling away and I still tried telling myself that I was crazy. No, no, you wouldn’t do that to me. We’ve been through so much together. Fucking fool, I am!”

You watch him through the glaze of tears as he stalks toward you. The hurt in his eyes burns like a serrated knife, slicing away at the worn and ruptured threads of your relationship that scream with every threat of the blade.

“So, no, you don't get to tell me I'm being unfair! I saw the way you watched me tonight. You probably don't realize how many drinks you had because you were too busy raising your hackles at the girls that I was talking to. Ran off to light a fire under Renjun's ass because things didn't go your way.”

Your heart pounds against your breast, your pulse violent in your fingertips. In your head, this conversation played out with less hostility. You expected some anger - it’s only fair with the pain you put him through - but this was another level entirely. In all your years of knowing YangYang, he’d never blown up like this.

Never at you.

Never because of you.

This isn’t the boy that you would race to school every morning, who dried your tears and rubbed the rocks from your knees when you tripped yourself. The one who would send you dumb memes in the middle of class, and took accountability so you weren't sitting in detention alone. Who bought you a promise ring for your ten years of being friends, and another when you celebrated two years of dating.

Your rock in the toughest situations and you threw him into the ocean with little thought. Didn't even watch as he sank to the depths.

You blink, feeling the tears track down you cheeks as you speak.

“I never wanted to hurt you like I did, and I should’ve talked to you about this months ago. I’ve…” You hesitate, “I’ve been think about that night a lot.”

“Good.” He doesn’t miss a beat.

“It was a mistake, and I can’t even give you a good reason for it.” you whimper, breath catching in your throat, “I’m so sorry, YangYang. I-I wasn’t thinking straight. I never should’ve-”

Words fail you, your composure breaking with a burst of tears that hits so suddenly, it's impossible to breathe. You hug yourself with trembling arms, nails digging into your palms.

“I don’t want this to be it for us,” you say, your words strangled as you try to wrangle in your tears, “there has to be a way to fix this!”

He’s close enough to touch, and you reach out with little thought, pulling him into you, wrapping your arms around his torso. Your fingers grip into the back of his sweater as you sob into his shoulder, your body shaking with every strangled hiccup.

YangYang doesn’t move, doesn't push you off. He just stands here. There’s no warm embrace enveloping your frame, no tears to share with you. It’s like you’re hugging a stone statue, the body heat that he exudes being some sort of sick joke when all you feel is the chill of a vacant shell.

“Please, tell me what I can do to fix it!” The plea hangs over you like a specter, ghastly fingers wrapping tight around your throat. The silence grows long, nothing more than faint strains of music drifting through the cracks of the windows and doors of the house, carrying some hint of life beyond the two of you. You almost wish he’d begin to yell again, growl about the extent of which you’ve hurt him. Anything but this indifference, this apathy towards the one girl he’s given everything to. But this… this feels like him finally giving up. Like he’s finally decided that you aren’t worth the trouble anymore. You don’t want to accept it, but every second that ticks by is like another nail in the coffin.

You pull away, fingers twitching as they come up to cradle his jaw. The muscles under the flesh tenses, and he recoils from your touch like it’s physically hurting him, looking off across the street with a hollow gaze. It’s a tortuously long moment before he levels you with those brown eyes. They’re dull when they look at you now; worlds away. A fresh grave, its soil rejecting any and all growth, no flowers, no grass. Seeds greedily plucked from the ground by songbirds and rodents. No one to care for the plot when the soul’s story is made up of little white lies. He watches from the corner of his eye as the tears collect on mascara-laden lashes, the makeup mixing with the liquid as it trickles down and off your chin.

“I don’t want it to be over either,” he admits. A stray tear falls from his lash line, but there’s a void of emotion in his tone. “But…”

There’s that pause again, and you can’t handle it this time. The knot in your chest tightens like a vice, brows pulling inward when he goes to take a step backward. You shake your head, his name sputtering from your lips like it’s the only thing that could offer a modicum of comfort.

“I love you, YangYang,” you say the words quickly, desperately, clinging to his arms as he spares you nothing more than a glance. “I still do, please, please don’t- don’t do this! I’m sorry!”

“That’s the same dress.”

You look up with wide eyes, jaw slack as you sniffle.

“What?”

“You wore that dress the night you came home drunk with them.” he says.

You glance down at the fabric hugging your figure, the memories from that night coming back to you in what little fragments you can remember. Clinging to their shirt as you both laughed between kisses, the clumsy fumble of your key in the lock. You had woke up to them in your bed, a raging hangover, and your boyfriend sitting on the couch in silence when you went searching for a glass of water and an Aspirin. You don't remember doing anything more than kissing, but cheating was cheating. And YangYang had been livid.

He shakes his head, laughs incredulously. “You’re insane. You're dead to me.”

“YangYang, I-” is all you can get out before he’s pulling away again, shoving you off him with enough force to send you staggering to your knees. For a moment you sit there in a stunned stupor, your hands splayed over the wood grain of the porch, gasping for breath as you openly sob. Composing yourself at this point is impossible, anxiety clutching at your lungs like a serpent’s stranglehold. Your legs tremble, eyes burning with unspent tears. He hasn’t walked away yet, and for a moment you think maybe there’s some semblance of salvaging this until-

“Don’t come crawling back to me when they put you through the same shit you put me through. Fucking cry yourself to sleep.”

It’s the last thing he says, storming off as he passes your heaving frame with little more than a glance. Down the front steps. Down the path to the side walk. It’s over. You choke back sobs as you fight for oxygen, numb to the feeling of warm hands on your back. Through the onslaught of tears, you recognize the shoe beside your knee as Xiaojun’s.

You try to focus on his voice, listening to each syllable as he murmurs your name in your ear and his attempts to guide you out of this frantic head space, but all you can focus on is the black hole manifesting within your chest. Your heart is like lead at your feet, your lungs burn, and your ears ring to a fever pitch.

YangYang’s words ring in your head like a death knell. The bell’s final toll signaling the end as the shadow of the man you knew disappears down the street.

You have no one to blame but yourself.

Psst!! If you made it this far, thank you for taking the time to read my work 💕 I appreciate you!

#wayv #yangyang #liu yangyang #wayv x reader #wayv x you #liu yangyang x reader #yangyang x reader #nct wayv #wayv imagines #wayv scenarios #wayv angst #wayv x f!reader #yangyang x f!reader #yangyang imagines #liu yangyang x f!reader #wayv drabbles #x f!reader #x female reader #quokkawritings🌻

[noisyquokka]

The Signature Leo

PAIRING - Changbin x GN!Reader (ft. Jisung, Chan, Felix)

SYNOPSIS - A late-night trip to the corner store turns chaotic when you're with the besties.

WORDCOUNT - 4.5k

WARNINGS - Fluff, platonic, non-idol!AU, established friend group, slice-of-life, dialogue-heavy, friends that call each other names (i.e: idiot, dumbass, bitch, etc.) in an affectionate way, Changbin is a little shit, this friend group is unhinged

A/N - It's that time of year again, happy Changbin day! Perhaps this is a self-indulgent piece that I meant to write a while ago, perhaps thanks to a dream I had... perhaps? The timing was perfect so I sat down and finally wrote it. Happy birthday to our favorite leo! c:

The neon 'OPEN' sign hangs from the convenience store window, cascading shades of red and blue onto the blacktop outside. You had tuned out the raucous from the group of boys that walked out of the door behind you, a hint of a smirk on your lips.

"-so he threw it into the pool as if that would magically fix everything!"

"Hey, it worked didn't it." Felix says, ascending the steps to the store. Jisung's eyebrows shoot up at the nonchalance as he recalls the story from a few days prior, bracing himself on the younger boy's shoulders.

"Dude, that sweater was on fire!" He counters. "Literally up in flames! Scorched! Incinerated!"

"Here we go-" Chan mutters next to you.

"I think you're overselling it here." Felix replies, adjusting the backpack slung over his shoulder. Cold cans of just-bought energy drinks slosh around with the jostling.

"You're just saying that because it's Balenciaga."

"It's my favorite Balenciaga sweater!"

"It's your only Balenciaga sweater." Changbin says, chuckling to himself. You and Chan shoot each other a look as the group stops at the signal and you look both ways before crossing.

The time on your phone glints back in blue and white pixels; 12:51 AM. Even on a Summer weeknight, the streets are pretty bare, with a few cars passing by every few minutes or so. The local pizza joint on the corner is still lit up as the owner counts out the money in the register, probably the last thing on his to-do list before he goes home for the night. Your stomach rumbles at the thought of a warm slice of pizza, even as the snacks you'd just bought swing in the bag you're holding, hitting your knee as you come to a stop.

Changbin notices you stop, and he glances at the neon sign that's still glowing in the window. Must've forgotten to turn it off. He taps your shoulder, a knowing look on his face. You roll your eyes, but nod. A smirk curls at the corner of his lips and you watch on as he walks up to the door. He taps the glass a few times, getting the owner's attention. The elder man shoots him a smile, even after a full day's work in the sweltering kitchen of his establishment.

Changbin had that air about him; a quiet guy that somehow exuded this extroverted vibe. Everyone wanted to know him and he'd made many good friends in the years since his family moved here. Anyone who knows him knows he's a good man and an honorable friend. The Signature Leo.

Your ears perk as the sweater conversation goes on. The other three continue on their way down the street, so invested in the debate to realize two-fifths of the group have strayed behind.

"Well it's a little destroyed, but isn't that trendy now? Y'know the distressed look." You hear Felix say. His brows probably furrow at the guys next to him.

"Distressed or destroyed?" Jisung teases, ruffling through the younger's bleached locks. Chan snorts out a laugh beside them as sneakers and combat boots thump over stone and asphalt.

"Eh, same difference."

You hadn't heard the bell over the door jingle, nevermind noticed the interaction beside you until Changbin brushes a broad shoulder with yours. One luke-warm cheese and pepperoni pizza sits in the cardboard box he holds, the aroma wafting to your senses with the help of the summer breeze. He tilts his head toward the group and you smile as you skip ahead of him, catching up to the others.

"This coming from a man with at least forty pairs of ripped jeans!" You say, shooting Chan an incriminating look. The eldest looks over his shoulder, brows set in that familiar squiggle on his forehead. You know what's coming. You smirk.

"Mine came that way." He says, although you don't get a chance for a rebuttal because Felix is wrapping an arm around your neck, thank you's falling from his lips in a mantra as he pulls you in to plant a fat kiss on your cheek. You screw your eyes shut at the contact, shoving him away as you wipe at the spot of saliva that's left behind with your hoodie sleeve.

"Ew, cooties!" You whine, though it's obvious that you're joking. "I can't even constitute that as a kiss, I swear you just licked my cheek."

"Friends that hang together share their saliva."

A chorus of 'nope's and even an 'oh, hell no' echoes through the breeze, and somewhere down the street, a dog barks at the youth's commotion. The mix of Felix and Jisung's laughter only eggs on the unknown canine as the group continues down the side of the street.

"You've obviously been spending too much time with Jisung." You say, flicking the two in the forehead.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?!" Jisung asks, voice going up a few octaves.

"Yeah!" adds Felix, which only earns him another flick on the forehead by his silver-haired best friend.

"All your Instagram posts have been nothing but snuggling with Bbama, Lix."

Felix scoffs, waving a hand at your accusation. You raise a brow, beginning to pull your cell from your hoodie pocket.

"Bitch, I know you aren't about to pull receipts on me right now."

"Try me, Yongbok."

Jisung is the first to break, covering his mouth in an attempt to not wake the entire neighbourhood with his howling laughter. Chan just grins at the scene in front of him, nothing but genuine love in his eyes for his friends. And Changbin watches from the back of the group, snacking on a slice of the pizza he's been carrying.

Felix visibly deflates, shoulders slumping as he admits defeat.

"You know it's true, bitch!" You tease, shoving your phone back into the pocket. "With all the time you spend at Ji's place, I'd think you were his maid or something."

Now you've got the whole group in hysterics.

"Oh my god," Jisung cries, shoulders jerking violently as he wipes a tear from his eye, "now that's an idea! Bro, twelve bucks and you've got the job!"

"AN HOUR?! That's not even minimum wage!"

"Fine, fine, twenty. Twenty-five if you wear the little outfit."

"Deal."

You all continue down the street, laughter and banter bouncing between your friends like rubber bands in a pinball machine. As the jokes and jabs continue, a thought surfaces in your mind. A question, really, but the more you consider it, the more enticing of a proposition it seems. You don't want the night to end just yet.

"Hey, guys, we're just on our way home, right? Why not keep walking?"

Jisung tilts his head, brows furrowed.

"I'm already over walking." He groans, shoulders slumping as he kicks at the pebbles on the side of the street. "Carry me?"

"Fuck that, ask your new maid!" You glance at Felix who shoots daggers your way.

"I'm carrying all our munchies in here," He says, gesturing to the backpack on his shoulder, "I am not carrying you, dude."

"There's a park just down the street if you guys wanna stop and chill for a bit." Chan says with a grin. "The night is still young."

You spare a glance at the sky, not true black thanks to all the light pollution in your town and neighbouring city. The stars you can see sparkle like faint diamonds, and you smile with the knowledge that you have hours yet to pass before even a hint of twilight creeps on the horizon. Affirmatives sound throughout the group as the road bends and everyone falls into a comfortable silence. It's peaceful in your little map dot of the world, the soft sounds of an idle town flowing with the breeze.

At some point, your eyes catch Changbin at the front of the group, eyes darting to the pizza box in his grip as your stomach growls again. Your hips shift, picking up the pace as you follow in tandem with the buff shadow.

"Anyways, Felix, your burnt sweater is not trendy, and please don't attempt to make it one." You speak up, grinning as Changbin offers you a slice from the open box.

"Agreed." Chan calls over the car that passes. He ignores the look his friend gives him, the rushing creek below the bridge the group walks on gives a perfect excuse for a photo-op. Even in the dark of night.

"What was that even out of your wardrobe for anyways? It's Summer!" You add, swallowing the bite of pizza you'd been chewing.

"Shut the fuck up, you're literally wearing a hoodie right now!"

"It's cold, you idiot! There's a breeze!"

"It's twenty-nine degrees! Are you mad?!"

"Why am I the only one being attacked when Chan is also wearing a hoodie right now!"

Your eyes shift to find the eldest of the group, and soon, everyone is glancing at the poor guy. Chan's ears perk at the mention of his name, slowly snapping photos of the glistening creek water.

"Woah, don't bring me into this." He says, shaking his head as a broad grin spreads over his face.

"What about Changbin!" Felix gestures with a lazy swing of the arm. You glance ahead of you, and sure enough, Changbin is wearing a hoodie... in a way. His hoodie sleeves hang over his shoulders, tied at the ends to keep the fabric from slipping off his back as he walks on towards the park.

"Dude, stop trying to change the subject!" You yell at Felix, who only looks back at you in disbelief. You swear his aura is visibly vibrating at your audacity.

"I'm trying to defend myself, since no one else is going to. All of you are wearing thick fucking hoodies in like thirty degree weather! At least my sweater is light and airy."

"And burnt..." You mumble.

Jisung snickers and nods in agreement. You're pretty sure Chan is selectively listening - too busy taking pictures of what nature he's able to capture in the low lighting. Changbin is just taking everything in, amused with the turn of events as he takes the last bite of his pizza. He's all good as far as he's concerned, a snack and entertainment on this fine Summer evening.

"Changbin!" You call out to him with a laugh, and he hears your feet thumping against the street as you get closer. Anticipating the impending onslaught, he grips the pizza box firmly just seconds before you collide with his back. He grunts with the force of your body launching into his, but he's more than able to accommodate you as your legs lock around his waist. He smirks at the feeling of your arms around his neck, but doesn't bother looking back at you in his attempt at stoicism.

"Where the hell are you goin', Birthday Boy? We've gotta bully you next. That's the way it works!"

"And what have I done to deserve to be bullied by my best friends?" He asks, eyes shifting over his shoulder in curiosity. He jostles you as he walks on, but even as you feel yourself sliding off his back, his free arm slips under one of your legs to better secure you.

"Recently? Going to Thailand without us... especially me!" You whisper the last part, hoisting yourself up again with a devious grin. Changbin rolls his eyes.

"Y'know, sometimes I think this friendship has become a little too codependent. You can't survive without me for a week?" He asks.

"Not to boost your ego or anything, but your shining presence is always a requirement in this relationship." You trail, resting your chin on his shoulder. "Plus it's nice to have a bodyguard."

A scoff jostles you again as he crosses the street. The park's sign is lit up by a single spotlight, the bulb at the end of it's life as it flickers every few seconds.

"Chan is a good bodyguard. Or Felix."

You hum.

"Yeah, but you've got that intimidation factor. Chan's only intimidating when he's angry. And Felix? He's about as intimidating as a chihuahua."

"You say as you use me like a jungle gym." Dark eyes shine with the help of illuminating lamp posts, and you bite your lip to stop the splitting smile that threatens to take over your face. You shrug.

"You're not as intimidating now that I know you."

He nods, looking forward again as the kids playground comes into view. The park's main nature trail sits a ways away, picnic tables set up beside the entrance. Changbin bee-lines for them and the boys follow behind.

"So, still intimidating."

"I've been on the receiving end of your bear hugs! These arms are concealed weapons." You reply.

Changbin chuckles at that, broad chest vibrating under your palms. You let go of him once he comes to a halt at one of the benches, maneuvering himself to allow you to sit yourself on the aged wood. When he turns to face you, you can see the look of satisfaction on his face under his mask of stoicism; a sense of pride from the secrets you'd just told him. You wonder if he'll tease you about it more or if he'll be humble about it.

The pizza box is tossed onto the wood table top beside you, and when he leans forward, you know the answer to your question.

"Do I get to tease you now, then?" He asks with a tilt of his head.

"For what, exactly?" You scoff, narrowing your eyes at him. His hands brace against the table on either side of your shoulders, hips shifting to accommodate the weight on his right foot.

"I tolerate being your personal jungle gym, your bodyguard. I let you bully me on my birthday," He traps you in with bulky arms and an accusatory gaze. "Don't you think it's time for some payback?"

Your tongue prods at the inside of your cheek, face twisting in a theatrical mockery of disbelief.

"I mean, I do it with love so-"

"You seem nervous." Your name rolls of his tongue in a soft wave, but you don't miss the flex of his arms as he looks down at you. Or the accusatory chuckle that leaves your spine rattling.

"Nervous? About what?" You ask. Changbin's brow furrows as he studies you intently, gaze shifting over every part of your face. Even in such close proximity, you keep your cool, licking your lips and tilting your head in a manner that screams try me. And who is he to back down from a friendly little challenge?

Changbin leans closer and closer until his nose is borderline ghosting over your own. You can hear Jisung snickering somewhere near the playground, and your eyes crinkle instinctively at such a butterfly-inducing sound.

"Woah, you lovebirds need a minute?" Comes Felix's voice, shoving his backpack off as he makes himself comfortable beside you.

No one's surprised by this turn of events. Not when it happens so often, this power struggle that often leads to poking and prodding and sibling antics. That's your group dynamic. But you feel yourself folding with the added attention, and Changbin can see it, too. Your throat tightens as you swallow, biting the inside of your lip. He flashes a cocky grin and shifts again, his voice a quiet rumble as he whispers in your ear.

"Still intimidating."

Your hand comes up quickly, but not quick enough as Changbin catches your wrist with an iron grip. It's not enough to hurt you, but firm enough to keep you there until you say so. He chuckles as he leans back and you shift your weight forward in an attempt to flick yet another victim on the forehead, to no avail. You yelp as you fall forward, your cheek colliding with black cotton and sturdy muscle. Strong arms circle your shoulders and squeeze. This time, you're the victim of Seo Changbin's mighty bear hugs.

"Don't give up like that, what the fuck!" You huff, trying to pull an arm free.

"Ah, don't complain, you love my hugs." He coos.

"Let go of me before I melt into a puddle!"

Felix snorts next to you, cracking open an energy drink with nimble fingers.

"Oh, now the hoodie's too much."

"Shut up, Burnt Sweater!"

"The best time to wear a burnt sweater, is in a fire!" Jisung sing-songs, arm reeling back to smack Changbin's ass on his way to his seat. Those arms leave you, trading hugs for brotherly headlocks as he chases after the younger boy. Chan takes his seat beside you, watching on like a concerned parent.

"I'm surprised Jisung hasn't gotten the cops called on us yet." You mutter, pulling your munchies from your bag as frantic screeching is muffled by t-shirt fabric.

"Eh, he sounds less like a person and more like a dying animal." Chan jokes.

"Well-"

"I fucking heard that!"

You and Chan share a side-eye, hint of a grin on both of your lips. You feel that familiar fuzziness in your chest as you watch the two boys come back to the picnic table, Jisung pulled along in the crook of Changbin's beefy arm. He releases him before sitting down with a smug grin plastered on his face.

"Damn, man. Those things are dangerous." Jisung mutters, rubbing at his neck in soothing motions.

"Changbin's arms can crush or cradle you with equal ferocity." Chan says it as if it's a statement.

"That the fun fact for the evening?" You quirk a brow, popping a brownie bite into your mouth. "Because you're not wrong. He's just always held back on me."

"It's 'cause he knows you'd never survive his wrath." Chan whispers and shoots you a wink, his eyes flicking across the table to Changbin. There's an amused twitch on Changbin's lips that you almost miss when he shifts his body. He slides the leftover pizza across the table, a non-verbal invitation for everybody to dig in.

Cue two dimwits asking where the pizza came from, too busy earlier with their unhinged argument to notice. Jisung sits himself down beside Felix, who has already finished half of his energy drink, head resting against the blonde's shoulder. His body visibly slouches against the younger's, a huff leaving him when Felix pats his head with a laugh. Even so, Jisung conforms to the attention like a lazy feline. He offers Jisung the rest of the can, which he takes, downing it in one go.

The raucous dies down as everyone picks away at their pizza and snacks, audio from social feeds interrupting the chorus of katydids in the surrounding trees. The frogs in the nearby pond pause their conversations when the banter gets a little too loud, lone splashes rippling in the water. It's the song that signals the inevitable end of Summer, and your heart beats against your ribs like a trapped moth. You feel Chan lean into your side as he posts his photos from tonight to his Instagram, brushing his arm with yours.

A sense of comfort washes over you; all is as it should be in this moment.

The crinkling of a wrapper hits your ears as you scroll your phone and you glance up, the laminated aluminum flashing in the park's street light before it's hidden under the table. You blink, gaze shifting from the blue-light of your phone to across the table. Changbin's already locked on you. Casual as ever.

"Did you seriously just..." You trail off, slipping your device back in your pocket. Changbin stays silent, arms folded over his chest as he leans against the table. Everyone has stopped what they were doing, glancing back and forth between you two, confusion etching their faces.

"What?" Jisung asks. Chan nods in your peripheral.

"Yeah, what'd he do?"

"This bitch stole my food!" You slip off the bench, pointing at the quote-unquote thief as you round the picnic table. "I asked you if you wanted anything when we were at the convenience store and you said no, you little shit!"

"I didn't."

Felix snorts, cracking open the second energy drink as he asks, "Didn't steal their food or didn't want anything?"

"Didn't want anything." He says, standing just as you reach for him, raising an eyebrow at you. "Sharing is caring."

"I don't remember hearing you say please."

"I definitely did."

You dart for the crumpled wrapper in his hand, but Changbin is quicker, lifting it out of your reach. Felix watches with wide-eyes while Chan and Jisung try to suppress their laughter.

"Fucking Leos... just cause it's your birthday doesn't mean I won't beat your ass!"

"I'd love to see you try to beat my ass."

You almost want to punch him in the chest to wipe that devilish grin off his face.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" You snicker loudly, following him as he turns away toward the playground.

"I'm gonna go chill over here."

"Don't run away!"

You can hear Jisung burst into a fit of giggles behind you as he leans back, almost pulling Felix off the bench. Felix slaps him in retaliation, grinning as he watches the two of you bicker like siblings. Their amusement only fuels your confidence as you trail the man that's built like a concrete wall.

"Is this how birthdays are celebrated in your family?" He quips, side-eyeing you as you square up to him.

"Only when you steal my brownie bites." You grin. "Why, you scared?"

"Trembling in my boots." He mutters, not flinching once when you throw a few fake punches his way.

"You should be, I'm like a wild animal!"

"So if you attack, I'd have to put you down."

"I'd like to see you try-" You start, turning your back to him on your way to the slide. Unfortunately you don't make it far, grizzly arms circling your torso and pulling you back into his chest with a practiced ease. Changbin laughs at the protests that fall from your lips, his grip on you firm as you try your darndest to shimmy out of his arms. That only makes him latch on tighter, picking you up off the ground as he walks.

"Put me down!" You demand, although he can't take you seriously when you're in a fit of giggles. The northwest breeze kicks up the scent of pine mulch from the playground a ways away, winds rustling the leaves of the trees above you as Changbin spins you around. All it takes is one of your legs to trip him up and you're both falling to the ground, with Changbin taking the brunt of it. The dew on the grass seeps into the fabric of your hoodie when you roll off of him, your legs draped over his, but you couldn't care less. You were genuinely enjoying yourself.

"Still intimidating." You mutter, tilting your head to look up at him.

You laugh as Changbin rolls his eyes, an exasperated sigh leaving his lungs. He's smiling, but it's soft - not the cocky grin or teasing smirk that he usually gives you - but a fond look. The kind of look you'd give a friend you treasure dearly. You swear there's a faint blush creeping up his neck, even reaching for his ears.

Your heart beats in a steady rhythm as Changbin's gaze wanders over your face, lingering for moments at a time to memorize every feature - the dip in your forehead when you frown, the sparkle that always peeks at the corners of your eyes, the way your lower lip curls inwards when you smile, the little scrunch of your nose that accompanies that.

He's always been so observant, so aware of every little detail. Always seems to be experiencing life as it should be experienced; here and now. Present with the group of friends that insisted they do something for his birthday, even if something was whatever the hell this was. He settles into the moment, one arm propping his head up towards the cloudless sky.

"Alright, alright, break it up kids."

Footsteps rustle through the blades of grass, Jisung's face the first you see as he stops at your feet. You grunt at the added weight as he free falls into the little space that's between the two of you. There's protests and retorts thrown around as he attempts to get comfortable, limbs shifting until his legs are propped over your thighs and his torso is splayed over Changbin's. The flash from Chan's phone blinds you, commemorating the moment in the form of pixels.

"Sorry, sorry," He chuckles, dimples making their appearance. "Scoot over."

"Scoot over where- what are you-?"

To say you're a bit toasty from all this added body heat would be an understatement, but it's difficult to do anything but sigh and chuckle when Chan settles down beside you. He braces himself on one arm, angling his phone at just the right height to fit everyone in the frame just as Felix joins, dropping his and your bags in a heap somewhere close by. You hear that familiar shutter sound as Chan snaps a few random pictures of the friend pile.

"God, it was... so quiet before y'all decided to join us." You say, stifling a smile.

"Oh shut up, you love us." Felix is already halfway through his second energy drink, and as he leans his head back to glance at the few stars above, he offers you the third can beside him. You smirk at his comment and take the can of caffeine, cracking it open and taking a long swig, the carbonation tickling your nose.

You've already forgotten how you ended up on the ground in some random park in the middle of the night with your best friends. Frankly, you realize, it doesn't fucking matter. It doesn't matter when the weight of responsibilities and expectations of reality feel like they're worlds away. This is all the familiarity you crave, and it seeps into your bones as you all take in the sky above. You can't remember the last time you felt this relaxed and content. From the looks of it, you can bet good money that your companions are feeling something similar. Your heart leaps into your throat at the thought. Warmth wraps around you like a blanket and you aren't sure whether that's from the close proximity or...

Oh.

These are your people.

"We should make a group chat called 'Saliva Friends'." Jisung mumbles as he scoots his back upright against Changbin's side.

These are your fucking people.

"Why make another when we can just..." Felix trails off, pulling out his phone and tapping away before multiple phones buzz, a few ringtones chiming through the evening air. Everyone pulls their phones out, and your eyes narrow at the notification on your screen.

Lix has changed the group chat name: Saliva Friends💦

You snort, tapping the info and deleting the chat name before re-typing your own.

You have changed the group chat name: These Bitches

"Wow, that's rude." Jisung says, and before you can respond, your phone buzzes again.

Ji has changed the group chat name: These Bitches🔥😩💅🏻

"What are you trying to say, Ji?" You tease, staring off into the sky, phone left laying on your chest.

"What do you mean me? We're all cool, frustrating, and a little spicy."

"You're as cool as a cup of steaming coffee."

Phones go off once more and everyone glances at theirs as Changbin puts his away.

Gymrat has changed the group chat: Saliva Sharers

"I'm gonna block all of you, oh my god." You say, although you're looking directly at Changbin when you speak.

"Damn, you're willing to lose your bodyguard privileges just like that?"

Yeah...

Yeah, you fucking love these idiots.

Psst!! If you made it this far, thank you for taking the time to read my work 💕 I appreciate you!

#stray kids #skz #seo changbin #stray kids x reader #skz x you #seo changbin x reader #skz seo changbin #changbin x reader #seo changbin imagines #skz changbin #gn reader #x gender neutral reader #quokkawritings🌻

[noisyquokka]

Little Oasis

pairing: Hyunjin x Reader

genre: Howl’s Moving Castle AU, Fantasy, Fluff

length: 2.2k

warnings: None that I could think of but please let me know if I missed anything 💛

Anonymous asked: hiii!! could I request a fanfic with hyunjin but he's howl (from howls moving castle). idk 🥲 I just really like that film and hyunjin reminds me so much of howl!!

A/N: Oh boy, was I excited to see this in my inbox! I feel like this request popped up at the perfect time since I spent the weekend at my aunt’s cottage. My imagination may have gotten the better of me but I’m fairly certain that this is my most detailed piece to date, so I hope you enjoy! Also, I might have sprinkled some of my personal “Hyunjin as Howl” headcanons in here, I couldn’t help myself 🥰 Enjoyy!

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧  

Your heartbeat thumped in your chest, keeping rhythm with your weathered boots as Hyunjin pulled you along behind him. His coat draped over your shoulders, swaying every which way as he swung the both of you around the corner and through the empty alley.

You should have seen this coming, really. It seemed as if you found yourself in this predicament more often than not, racing behind the tall raven-haired man down various alleyways of the village. From what? Well, whoever or whatever may be looking for him. The war may have ended but Howl Jenkins Pendragon was still a very sought-after wizard. Of course, it wasn't always for the right reasons. Hence, your current situation.

"This way, darling!" His grip on your hand was firm as he led you down another dimly lit alleyway. "Hurry!"

You followed without hesitation, doing your best to keep up with the man's much longer strides. You didn't know who was chasing after you two, and you knew better than to stop and ask at such a moment. Hyunjin knew what he was doing, and after the numerous times he'd saved you, you trusted him with your life. Even so, when you saw the pathway come to a dead end, you couldn't help the dread that crept into your veins.

He turned back the way you had came, just as the shadows of the pursuers cascaded across the stone walls. They were very much on your tails and Hyunjin was not about to put you in any sort of danger. His grip on you tightened, and before you could say a word, the sapphire pendant that hung around his neck began to glow and you were ascending to the rooftops in the arms of the powerful wizard.

"Hyunjin!!" You screeched, feeling your stomach drop as the ground got farther and farther away and you soared higher into the air. Your hands found his, holding on for dear life.

"I've got you, you know what to do." He murmured in your ear, lacing his fingers with yours as you began the usual waltz across the rooftops. It wasn't like you hadn't experienced this before. Hyunjin would take you on late night rooftop escapades every so often, but that didn't usually involve being chased back home. There was always one unlucky outing though, and it seemed tonight was one of them.

Your anxiety spiked, but as your feet hit the cobblestone streets once again, you felt the adrenaline kick in. The two of you booked it for the familiar abandoned building that would miraculously turn into the inviting place you called home once you breeched the entrance. You didn't care who it was that was chasing the young wizard beside you. Just as long as the two of you found shelter in the safety of the castle.

Once Hyunjin's fingers gripped the door handle, your legs almost gave out. The door slammed shut, that familiar bell chimed, and you took a moment to catch your breath on the stairs. Home sweet home, at last.

Or, it should have been. However, you weren't in the familiar warm and cozy castle that you had called home for the past year. Instead, your hands sunk into rich soil. The sounds of songbirds and insects hummed through... a forest, lush and fragrant.

"H-Hyunjin, what is this place?"

You rose to your feet, taking in the world around you. The sunlight filtered through the low hanging branches of the trees, casting an ethereal pink glow throughout the quiet forest. Birds sang their songs as they fluttered from branch to branch, plucking ripe, juicy berries from the juniper and elderberry bushes not too far away.

Hyunjin cleared his throat, a sheepish expression settled over his features once you turned to him.

"My apologies, I never introduced you to this place. It's my, er... secret oasis." He replied, glancing up to the swaying canopy of the trees. You watched as the wind played with his hair, blowing the raven-colored strands behind him. A few fell into his line of sight as he seemingly reminisced about this beautiful dream-like world he had conjured up. "I kind of forgot I created it, if I'm honest."

"How did we manage to get here, then?" You breathed, completely enamored.

"I'm not exactly sure... I can get us back home without an issue, though. So," He held a hand out in waiting, gaze falling upon you with a soft smile. "Shall I give you the grand tour?"

Your lips upturned into a smile of your own, nodding in excitement as you took his hand. With a gentle squeeze, Hyunjin pulled you along down the mossy path of the heavily wooded area. The paths were surrounded in high grasses and wildflowers, most likely the work of magic as the trees blocked out much of the sunlight. The rattling of antlers resounded somewhere in the deep brush of the forest and you glanced towards the way it had came, catching sight of two young bucks that seemed to be in the midst of a sparring session. They paused in their fight, alert and observing as the two of you passed by.

"Watch your step." Hyunjin's soft voice pulled you from your haze and you glanced down. A large tree trunk protruded from below the forest floor, home to a cluster of glowing fuchsia mushrooms. You blinked at the unusual sight.

"This place is something out of a fairytale." You whispered, stepping over the trunk before you kept on your way through the forest. Hyunjin chuckled, smiling to himself. He adored watching you explore. It didn't matter what it was, the real world or one of his magical ones. You always saw them in a way no one else was able to. With a sort of childlike bewilderment that glimmered in your eyes no matter where you'd look. He wished he would have shown you this one sooner. Even Markl never got that excited.

As you continued on, the forest soon opened into a clearing. Hyunjin paused in his tracks, nodding his head in a forward gesture. You held his crystalline gaze for a moment before you found yourself entranced once again. The scene before you was something to behold. The path of moss softly transitioned into gray slate, contrasted by the bright purple-pink blooms of creeping thyme. Your grip on Hyunjin's hand loosened, falling away completely as you made your way further into the garden. The woody, citrus scent tickled your nose as you disturbed the aromatic groundcover beneath your feet. A stone birdbath sat in the center of the path just a few meters ahead, watched over by a large stone statue, it's feminine features cascading down to the water as if pondering when the next songbird would offer her a fleeting moment of its company. Around her, various species of flowers bloomed, an invitation for the buzzing bees searching for sweet nectar and, perhaps, to rest among the silky petals. You reached out as you waltzed through the garden, allowing the swaying branches of the willow trees to flow through your fingers.

"This place... It feels like a dream." You said with a smile. "It's so breathtaking!"

You scanned the rest of the clearing, searching for anything else hiding in the over-grown garden. An easel sat by the edge of the river, leaning against one of the massive willow trees. A few feet away was a wooden swing that hung from one of the willow's stronger branches. Hyunjin followed you down to the river's edge, grinning at the sight of you reaching for the thick rope that supported the swing.

"I haven't spent time here in quite a while now." Hyunjin spoke up, leaning against the trunk of the old tree. You sat down on the swing, glancing up toward the sky where the branches danced with the breeze. You turned to the wizard with a furrowed brow.

"Why not? It's so beautiful here, peaceful." It was true. Whatever adrenaline that had taken hold of you before falling into this unknown world had dispersed. Contentedness was what you felt now, your chest fluttering with a sense of calm and peaceful delight.

Hyunjin sighed heavily, his eyes settled on the sun that sat just above the horizon. The jewels that adorned his ears caught the light of the early morning sun, casting rainbows of light along his jawline. You followed his gaze across the river, taking in the vastness of the picturesque valleys in the distance.

"This place used to bring me such unspeakable peace. I'd spend days at a time here practicing spells, painting, daydreaming..." He trailed off, closing his eyes briefly. You took note of his words - that he used to get peace from this world - and wondered what had changed. As if he could read your thoughts, he spoke up.

"Sometimes reality can be more than we bargain for. When it became too much for me, I came here as a means of escape."

Hyunjin traipsed slowly behind you with long, flowing strides. The silk top fluttered along his skin as he moved closer, light and arid. Like the water that bubbled over the rocks in the riverbed. Like the clouds above, awash in the shades of burnt peach and lavender. He may as well have been air personified, you thought.

"Have you noticed the sun hasn't moved on the horizon?"

You hummed an affirmative, swinging lightly as he spoke.

"Mornings have always been sacred to me. The world is just waking, the sun rises to kiss the delicate petals of flowers. The forest sings a symphony to welcome the new day, as if danger is a passing bubble of thought that holds no threat. It's playful, in a way."

You felt the warmth of his hands on your back as he gave you a gentle push, allowing the momentum to propel you forward and back. Hyunjin continued and you listened with fervor.

"The wilds of the forest live on, and the song birds, the foxes, the deer... they don't worry much about anything. I had an epiphany as I would watch them, that they are very much what I aspired to be for a long time. They live life through discovery. And they learn through experiencing."

The young wizard stepped out of the way of the swing, his celestite eyes glimmering at you as your boots began to lightly skim the grass below them. His hands linked behind his back in a boyish manner, glancing about the overgrown garden with the same admiration in his eyes that he would often bless you with. His fingers grasped the ropes of the swing after a moment, bringing you to a halt altogether. You shared a long glance, no words exchanged besides the whispering winds in the trees.

"And then I met you and I... I realized that you, my dear, you live life as the creatures of the forests do. Not only here, but in the real world, too." You tilted your head at his words, curious as to what he meant. He exhaled at the sight, wracking his brain for the right words. As if they didn’t want to flow easily within his head.

"Try as I may, I can't seem to articulate my words without coming off as a fool." He said, a small breath of laughter accompanied by a shake of his head. Your eyes flitted to his tensed shoulders, his cheeks blooming as he distracted himself with the rings that adorned his fingers. You took a chance, raising your hands up to where Hyunjin's gripped the swing, slipping your fingers under his in a comforting manner. Hyunjin visibly relaxed from your touch and you smiled when he gathered his courage, looking you straight in the eye with a newfound confidence as he spoke.

"What I wanted to say is..." Deft fingers brushed along the expanse of your cheek, falling to the tip of your chin. "You have a way of making life, mm, enchanting. Wonderous!"

You couldn't help but to laugh at his words. You? Wonderous and enchanting?!

"Enchanting... Isn't that in your job description, Great Wizard?" You teased, ignoring the heat in your cheeks from such a high compliment. Hyunjin chuckled, pulling you up from the swing. You still had questions, though.

"I still don't quite understand. You said you don't find peace in this world like you used to. What changed?"

For the second time that evening, Hyunjin gave your hands a firm squeeze. You took the moment and admired the man in front of you, his smile slowly fading until his earrings caught your attention. The emerald gems shimmered a moment and you felt your chest flutter as those crystalline eyes melted into the familiar rich brown that you knew so well. Only you. Hyunjin blinked softly, humming in contentment at the sight of your upturned lips.

"Perhaps I've found something that brings me the same feeling without my added dose of magic..." He whispered, placing a chaste kiss to the back of your hand.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧  

Psst!! If you made it this far, thank you for taking the time to read my work 💕 I appreciate you!

#stray kids #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin x reader #howls moving castle au #skz #stray kids imagines #stray kids drabbles #stray kids fluff #hyunjin x gn reader #quokkawritings🌻